


Mountain Queen

by Beaknighted, MsBluebell, Naz_Artz, SICProwl



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Friends, Clan Eisner is made up of Tolkien characters, F/M, Friends to Lovers, It'll make sense soon, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, and som Dragon Age characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beaknighted/pseuds/Beaknighted, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBluebell/pseuds/MsBluebell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naz_Artz/pseuds/Naz_Artz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SICProwl/pseuds/SICProwl
Summary: "The Royal Family of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus do cordially invite you and yours to attend the Autumnal Equinox Gala"Is what the letter said, a letter that was sent to every noble House on the continent, minor or major, Crestless or Crested, all received this letter, and for House Eisner this did not bode well. It meant the Crown was searching for a suitable fiance for the Prince.Not that Byleth cared or knew, all she wanted to do was go and make some new friends.And how could Jeralt say no?***Updates every Sunday
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Glenn Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 137
Kudos: 320
Collections: Clan Eisner





	1. Part 0-Lucky Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fluffy AU dear readers, figured I should get a head start while this fic is still young. I'll try and update every Sunday.
> 
> -Mod Naz

Jeralt knew this was a bad idea.

He knew, the moment he stepped off the mountain, that this was a really, really bad idea.

The first warning sign was the sudden winter storm that came out of nowhere. Halfway down the mountain, a horrible howling wind buffeted their two person party and knocked his daughter right off her feet. Snow dusted their vision and the mountain practically groaned as the skies grew dark with clouds. It wasn't necessarily rare for storms to cast over their ancestral lands, but it was certainly rare for one to appear so quickly without their notice. Though, the mountain was always very, ahem, peculiar.

Still, to be completely blindsided after many generations lived, breathed, and worked that land from birth till death - Jeralt should have noticed something.

Their trip had been delayed due to this and they had to shuffle down like penguins when they bundled up. Byleth didn't seem to mind, but Jeralt couldn't help but feel that there was only more frustration to come. Once the mountain told you not to leave, one tended to listen. But he ignored it because his daughter had been waiting all month for this trip and to make friends her own age. They couldn't turn back now, not after she spent most the week fussing overpacking.

_"Papa, should I bring my training sword? Do the other kids like sparring? Will they think it's weird?"_

_"Is it impolite to come without a gift? I can grab some pretty stones from the mines."_  
  
She even told her stuffed snow lion that they were going away for a little while and that he had to protect her secret stash of treasures away from Uncle Fili and Kili. The worn toy fell over in the chair and Byleth took that as confirmation that he would do his best. Jeralt didn't have the heart to tell her that everyone knew about the old chest shoved under her bed - so he made sure to scold Fili and Kili for putting their noses where noses don't belong. The confused looks on their faces only made the send off a bit sweeter.

That, and the fact that this has been the most Byleth's talked and shown interest in anything other than training and exploring. She was at that age where kids had a few friends to write letters to and spend time with, but due to where they lived, well...leaving the mountain was a bit more complicated then it looked. Their family had been self-sustainable and relied on most merchants coming to them for furs, lumber, and the many gems that littered their mines. So they never had a need to leave, seeing as most were clamoring to trade food and drink for a few measly rocks. But that also meant all Byleth's social interactions were either with family or the occasional old fart who could haggle his way into the king's treasury. 

"Grandfather says I received an invitation to the castle for a party. He says it's for the crown prince and all the other kids are going." Her eyes had shined and her sentence trailed off long enough for Jeralt to catch her silent question.

Gods, she was excited. More excited than when he started to teach her to fish, even more, when she swung her first sword.

How could he say no?  
  
So now they were making their way to the capital to visit the royal family of all people, hindered by a snowstorm and finding themselves without a place to stay as all the inns in the area were full. Truly, another sign that they should have burnt that invitation. But damn, if Byleth wasn't taking it all in like a sponge as everything and everyone became subject to her curious gaze.

There seemed to be a lot more people wandering about then he remembered, more caravans and people traveling and filling up each place they stopped at for a room. Jeralt had to set up their camping gear for almost every night on the road until they finally found a hunting lodge with a free room in the capital.

They had to share a bed, but Byleth was small and Jeralt wasn't heavy enough to squish her, so it'd work out. Jeralt also had a few of the rabbits they killed along the way here, so they already had some game to pay for their room. With the main square being only a skip away, they wouldn't have to spend too much time walking to the castle before they would be assaulted by nosy guards.

Which is exactly what happened when they finally made it to the castle gates, Jeralt in his slightly nicer than normal clothes and Byleth in her riding outfit.

"It's a nice day to ride horses - I'm sure someone will ride with me."

He couldn't really tell her no, considering she only had one fancy dress and they had decided to save that for the big dinner later that night, so he let her pick out her own outfit as usual then dealt with the busy crowd and nosy guards without a word. But it wasn't until they stepped into the castle courtyard with Byleth holding his hand that Jeralt realized this was, indeed, a really really bad idea.  
  
Nobles dressed in extravagant clothes, laughing and talking and throwing their weight around with others while young children either stood at their side or grouped up together to gossip like their parents. Jeralt felt his eyes burn at the assault of colorful dresses and bows that filled his vision, only getting relief at the occasional black or blue suit from one of the few boys.

That was another thing that made Jeralt feel on edge. Everywhere he looked, from wall to wall, corner to stair, and fountain to the bench, there was nothing but young girls around Byleth's age. Something about the sight made the back of his head itch and he could feel Byleth squeeze his hand at the sight.

He looked down at her, worried she was just as afraid as he was but found the sparkle in her eyes despite the blank gaze.

"There are so many children..."

Jeralt snorted, "Lucky us."

She squeezed his hand tighter and allowed her excited to show with a small bounce before reverting back to her usual self.

"I don't think any of them will want to ride in dresses."

"Hm," Jeralt glanced over the crowd before gently urging his daughter to follow him towards the right. "I'm sure we'll find someone - if not, I can ride with you."

If only to escape this madness.

Jeralt peeks down at Byleth as he makes his way over to the usual crowd, well, he says usual but he hasn't been down in years so he doubts he'll be welcomed as warmly as before. But...given he's an Eisner, it shouldn't be too difficult, it's all for Byleth after all.

"Papa?" Byleth begins, and Jeralt stops to look down at her, face passive, eyes positively sparkling with joy, "I don't think I have enough pretty stones for everyone."

Jeralt has to stop himself from laughing, he very much doubts the crowd of girls she's eyeing will appreciate the true value of the 'pretty stones' Byleth carries with her, not to mention the amount she has good years worth of wages in her little pouch. He was a little smug about it, but Byleth had an eye for jewels and ore like most others in the family, cept she was fairly young, so that made her kind of a prodigy then didn't it.

"Don't worry too much about it kiddo, I'm sure they've got stones of their own," Jeralt assured her, Byleth gave a nod as they made their way to the Minor Noble's, former son's_ now heads that he used to drink with, in his youth.

They eyed him with open disdain before taking notice of Byleth, and their demeanors shifted immediately.

"'n' who's this Bonny wee lassie ye'v git wi' ye Jeralt, look tae cute tae be her bairns!" A man with the shaggiest red beard laughed, as he kneeled down to be on eye level with Byleth.

Byleth stared upwards at the shaggy beard with her ever blank face, eyes stuck on those long auburn curls. She looked ready to reach out and grab it, a habit she'd fondly thank to years of exposure to overly bearded men. This particular beard was not too far off from his distant uncle Golin. Already he could see the gears turning in his daughter's head, wondering if this man was a distant relation.

And he sort of was, seeing as he was her aunt Tauriel's father or brother or something, he's forgotten how, exactly, she's related to those folk.

"Lord Forrester, haven't seen you since the wedding," Jeralt said in lo of a greeting. He clasped a hand on his daughter's shoulder, proudly presenting her to the man, "You remember my daughter, Byleth."

"By mah fluff, ah dae!" The man reached out a well-muscled and meaty arm, patting her on the head and ruffling her head with a hand as large as the crown of her head, "Ye wur juist a litte thing th' lest time a clocked ye. Noo keek at ye! a bawherr lassie!"

Byleth tilted her head, trying to translate the dialect in her head before giving up and simply bowing her head respectfully, "Nice to meet you, Lord Forrester."

"Sae polite." Lord Forrester praised, standing up and crossing his huge arms over his hairy chest, letting out a loud laugh, "Bit thir's na need fur that! a'm na Prowell. Mah fowk merrit intae yers, that mak's us kin in mah hert. Ah, bit it seems mah youngest daughter haes competion!"

Jeralt felt his nose wrinkle at the reminder for why they were all gathered here today. He squeezed his daughter's shoulder, eyes not leaving Lord Forrester, "You're too kind. But I'm sure your girl has a good chance. The Forrester Clan have always been staunch and powerful allies. Without your ironwood, this country would all be living under rocks."

"Ye honor me!" The Lord laughed, reaching out and patting Jeralt's own shoulder, "Ye'r a guid jimmy, Jeralt, guid luck."

Internally, Jeralt didn't want any luck, not for this. But as he looked around at all the little girls dressed in their finest day gowns, and then down at Byleth in her riding outfit, he thought they had a good chance of getting out of here unscathed. He smiled to himself and gave his daughter a pat on the back.

"What do you think Byleth? See anyone you'd like to meet?"

Byleth stared up at him, and then out into the crowd with a certain amount of awe before she backed shyly into his legs. Jeralt had somewhat expected this, and it was part of the reason he had decided to come. She wasn't used to crowds, and this was a good opportunity. 

He chuckled and pushed her forward, "Alright. Let's go see if we can find some more people we know. Later, fellas." There was a grunting assent behind them as Jeralt took Byleth's hand and they moved off and through the people. For the most part, nobody paid them much mind. Jeralt headed in the direction of the refreshments, hoping to at least get a cold mug in his hands when a wide hand landed on his shoulder.

"Well if it isn't Jeralt Eisner! Gracing us low-landers with his presence. It's been a while!"  
  
Jeralt turned to look into the deceptively stern face of Lord Lonato Gaspard. Behind him stood his teenage son and heir, Christophe. "Gaspard! Is that more white in your hair? Maybe it's time you retired."

The older man snorted and turned Jeralt back towards the drinks table. "Don't think you'll be rid of me so soon. I've been meaning to talk to you and yours about rewriting those coal contracts. But that can wait until later. I see you've brought dear Byleth with you!"

Lonato leaned down, so he was nearly face to face with Byleth, and her eyes sparkled with glee. Uncle Lonato was one of her favorite people outside the family. Byleth had told Jeralt in confidence that it was the mustache she liked most. "Hello there, little lady. I see you've come dressed for riding. Perhaps Christophe can take you to meet some other youngsters, while your father and I have a chat?"

Over Lonato's head, Jeralt saw Christophe's eyebrows rise. Babysitting was clearly not what he had in mind for the afternoon. But Byleth was already hopping up and down excitedly, so he gave her a little push towards the older boy with a wink. "Stay out of trouble, Byleth. I'll be right here if you need me."

His daughter gave him a little nod before following behind Christophe obediently, the boy sighed a little but gave Byleth a warm smile all the same. Christophe had always been polite to Byleth and this only made the lad more endearing to him considering not many his age would willingly watch a younger kid. Jeralt will have to get him a thank you gift for putting up with lazy adults like them.

"Jeralt!" Lonato shoved a drink in his hand as his broad grin looked less friendly and more curious. "I never thought I'd live to see an Eisner step inside Blaiddyd castle ever again - and on a day like this, no less!"

He decided to answer by taking a long swig of his drink, wondering if the castle's drink was always this piss poor. The stuff they brewed at home was much better, perhaps if there wasn't so much history between their families, Jeralt would have negotiated a contract to send them better beer.

Lord Lonato smacked his shoulder blade, laughing and making him almost spill his shitty drink. "You can't say you came all the way here just to taste the ale?"

"Is that what this is?"

Lonato laughed, "Oh, is it perhaps you've come in response to the big betrothed party?"

"Tch." Jeralt finished the rest of his drink then grabbed another before guzzling the watery-beer down in one gulp. "Gods, no. I just figured it's time Byleth got to see some kids her age, is all."

"Uh-huh..." There was a twinkle in Lonato's eyes that Jeralt did not like, not at all. "Though, I suppose it must be true if she came in her riding clothes instead of one of those frilly dresses."

Jeralt nodded, "Exactly. Friends only - no fiancés."

Jeralt took another swig, only to find the glass empty, he grimaced and handed it off to the next servant that passed by. There was no way he was going to get even a little buzzed on any of this drink, not that he should, considering Byleth wasn't old enough to hold her own yet not to mention...she was a sensitive kid, though she didn't seem like it.

A very sensitive kid now that he thought about it.

Lonato was prattling on about some matter or another but Jeralt could tell from the sound of the other Lord's voice, he wasn't interested in the topic he was speaking about either. Jeralt stared longingly after Byleth and Christoph, watching her talk with some girls in...overly frilly dresses. God's, how would they ever learn to defend themselves in the least if they were raised wearing such gaudy clothing.

"They won't, for one thing, they're of the Aristocrat Faction," Lonato said, and Jeralt realized he'd spoken his thoughts aloud, Lonato eyed Jeralt and continued," Those girls were raised by fool Faerghans fat off the false safety of having no Maglor breathing down their backs, seem to think they can win one over Blaiddyds...who knows, depending on how desperate Lambert is they just might."

Jeralt sighed, this again, this was why he stayed on the Mountain, in fact, this was why all of Clan Eisner remained on the mountain, Fhirdiad politics and showboating. Sure the public addressing and general foolery of the King was something to take pleasure in but—Jeralts train of thought slipped away.

The young girls hid behind their fans poorly, as if to imitate a certain Matriarch of some Authority—which only made them look like fools, and he watched Byleth walk away quickly with Christoph, clutching her bag of Pretty Stones close to her chest. She wasn't crying, in fact, he didn't know if she could, but Jeralt did know that he was worried about his little girl. 

Lonato sighed beside him," Well...are we running after them or not?"

Jeralt gave Lonato a look, and stalked off to tend to his daughter, Lonato trailed behind him chortling to himself. This is why he hated these balls, stupid Adrestian posturing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Faerghus before it became a Kingdom was made up of multiple Clans, we cite the source of this from it's similarities to Celtic lore. This means most of the noble families refer to themselves as Clans to one another.  
> -The dialect Lord Forrester is speaking is actually just some of us putting the English through a Scottish translator, authenticity is verified by some of the Celtic descended members of our Discord.  
> \- Maglor Brutus Blaiddyd, Lambert and Rufus's Father, he'll be mentioned throughout this fic so don't you worry  
> -If you haven't read Eisner's Return yet, which you don't need to, there are some recurring elements in that fic that reappear here and some more polished ones too; Such as  
> -The Eisners were a minor Faerghan house and retainers to the Crown.  
> -Knights are almost always made from noble houses, and Jeralt was house Eisner. He was a knight of Faerghus originally and switched to the Knights of Seiros after he met Rhea.


	2. Part 0-Looks like we found the real party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love...that you love the babies.

Christoph walked with a brisk pace, leading his young charge quickly through the snow-filled gardens, he was... in a bit of a rush. Glancing back he saw that Byleth wasn't exactly crying—had he ever really seen her cry—but her grip on her little bag of 'pretty stones' had gotten tighter. Stupid Adrestian debutantes didn't they know anyone would kill to be friends with an Eisner?! Furthermore, an Eisner gifting you with a Jewel worth thousands?!

Christoph sighed for the third time since he'd come to the ball. Really, where was Ashe when you needed him, that boy could put a smile on anyone's face. 

Christoph was really screwing up this Big Brother routine, _how did Glenn do it?_

"C-chrith?" Christoph turned around to see Ashe all by himself, making...tiny snowmen. 

"Ashe!! Just the little brother I needed to see!" Christoph said, tugging Byleth along.

"B-but I'm your only little brother at the cathle?"

Christoph paid no mind to what was probably a very good reminder, simply patting the ashen haired boy on the head and turning to her, "Ashe, this little lady is Byleth of House Eisner, a minor lordship over the mountains northwest of our home. Say hello."

The boy squeaked a bit, burying his chin inside the hem of his clothes, his little scarf hiding the bottom half of his face for the most part. His cheeks went red, and so did the bridge of his nose, and the lobes of his ears. Green eyes peered from where his scarf failed to shield them from her own gaze, and he gave a weak wave, "H-Hello my l-ady."

And then, as if only just remembering his manners, be hastily put his hands to his chest and bowed, "I-It's very n-ice t-to meet you."

"Well met." She nodded, and she should probably curtsy the way her auntie Tauriel taught her, but then she realized she wasn't wearing a dress, and her shirt wasn't long enough. Oh well, grandfather always said that whilst one should be polite, though not quite to nanny Bilbo's standards, one should always conduct themselves with an air of aloof majesty. So, instead of doing a failed curtsy, she attempted to copy the look grandfather had taught her and gazed at him distantly, aloofly, and hopefully majestically.

He eeped, so she thinks she did it correctly.

Grandfather was going to be very proud of her. He did not sleep in the drawing-room that night in vain.

Now it was time to do as nanny Bilbo had taught her and present a nice gift so they could become friends. Because, as nanny has taught her, nothing warms the way to the heart quite like food, song, and a nice housewarming gift. And even though he said this while glaring at grandfather, she took these words to heart. So she reached into her bag, already knowing what pretty stone she was going to give him. She grasped it, holding the smooth shiny in her hand and thrusting it towards him, "This is for you since we're friends now."

Ashe held the clear green gem up to his eye with an air of practiced study. Not for the first time, Christophe wondered what the boy was actually capable of, if he knew how much the shining little gift was worth. The mousey child and his siblings had only recently been adopted by his father after he had been caught red-handed in their parlor trying to lift a nearly priceless heirloom painting from the wall. The little thief's situation was leagues better than it had been thanks to the grace of Lord Lonato, but could you ever really take the street out of an urchin? Christophe certainly hoped so.

The boy's bright green eye looked through the glittering gem at Byleth standing somewhat nervously on the other side. 

"Y-you're really giving thith to me?" At Byleth's nod, he tucked the precious stone close to his chest and looked down at his little snowmen. "D'you want to play with me?"

 _Oh, Goddess._ Anything but having to watch two small children play in the snow. Christophe had better things to do. "We were actually on our way to the stables, Ashe. why don't you join us?"

"B-but I don't know h-how to ride."

"We've been wanting to teach you, so now is as good a time as any. Come on." With any luck, there would be more people his own age taking refuge by the horses as well.

As Ashe stood and dusted the snow off of his pants, Byleth energetically swayed back and forth. "I'm only just learning how to ride, too! We can learn together, Ashe!"

The little boy stood straight and blushed. "Um. I-I d-don't know if thath a good-"

But Byleth had already taken Ashe's hand and started dragging him away, with Christophe trailing after.

Despite being stuck babysitting for who knows how long, Christophe could at least enjoy watching Ashe play with someone other than his siblings. The boy had been very shy since they took him in and had scurried away from Christophe for months before he finally warmed up. Though Byleth was still older, it seemed all that time away from other kids made her blind to age dynamics - something he was grateful for since she was eager to make friends with a six-year-old.

The stables weren't too far, just past a few snow-covered hedges, a stone wall, and a long stretch of an outside walk path past the barracks before they arrived. Though it didn't look like there were many people outside, Christophe could see movement going on and hear a few muted voices mixed with horses, cluing him in that there were at least some people trying to hide away like he was.

And boy were there a lot.

"Ah," he looked around - not at all surprised to find the stables filled with young boys of varying ages. "Looks like we found the real party."

A bob of red hair peeked around one of the stalls and Christophe immediately recognized the youngest Gautier son. "Hey, it's Christophe."

Blonde popped out next behind Sylvain and Christophe immediately recognized the little girl who was engaged to the prodigal Fraldarius. Ingrid, he believed that was her name - their lands were in trouble as of late and they thought marrying another noble would help. It made sense why she wouldn't be with all the other girls, what with already being engaged and being somewhat of a tomboy.

"Ah," Ingrid bounced out, her braids bouncing with her as a smile blossomed on her chubby face. "Good day Sir Gaspard."

"Lady Galatea," Christophe bowed good humorously

Ingrid giggled at his display of chivalry, the chivalry Faerghus had become known for. If only Fodlàn knew half the truth.

"Who's that?" Sylvain asked from beside Ingrid, pointing at Byleth and Ashe, the latter of whom was hiding behind Byleth, the girl in question looked less afraid, though judging by the little furrow in her brow he guessed she was a little nervous. Probably at the sight of Ingrid, luckily for her, Ingrid was a bonafide Faerghan girl...but then again...Ingrid was a Galatea. While there wasn't a rivalry between the two families, there was a bit of a...spat a couple of centuries back.

With luck, Byleth would be too eager to make friends to hold on to it. 

Christophe nudged Byleth and Ashe forward and introduced them both, "The little silver over here is my younger brother Ashe," Ashe squeaked and bowed quickly, his little ears red with embarrassment," And this, is Lord Jeralt Eisner's only daughter, Lady Byleth Eisner."

Byleth bowed in a fashion not so unlike the Lord Eisner before her father, Thorin **_'Oakenshield'_** Eisner. It looked a bit odd for a child but considering Byleth was an odd little girl it suited her just fine. 

Sylvain bowed, "I am Sylvain Jose Gautier, of House Gautier my Lady, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Sylvain shot her a wink to which Byleth stared blankly at.

Ingrid sighed," Forgive him, I am Ingrid Brandl Galatea of House Galatea, it's nice to meet the both of you."

Silence... _very awkward silence._

Christophe resisted the urge to smack his forehead into the wooden posts. Byleths' blank staring and lack of reaction were becoming a large roadblock to her social integration. Christophe watched her stare at Ingrid and Sylvain unnerving them both, her eyes drifting between the two...observing. She dug into her bag not long after, grabbing a pair of stones and thrusting them forward, taking Ingrid and Sylvain back. 

In the palm of her hand, a brown and green gemstone, similar enough to Sylvain and Ingrid's eye colors.

"For you," Byleth said.

A beat passed, and Byleths' hand started to lower slowly before Ingrid reached forward to take the green one out of her palm.

"Thank you Lady Byleth, I shall treasure this I promise you," Ingrid said, clutching the gemstone tightly to her chest, more than likely Ingrid had never gotten jewels as gifts that weren't heirlooms, this would be here first, judging by the look in her eyes, Ingrid would treasure the uncut jewels in her hand. Smart girl. 

Sylvain took his not long after, turning it around in his fingers before pocketing it safely.

"Weird gift to give away like that..." the redhead muttered, before locking eyes with Byleth again, smiling brightly, arms relaxed behind his head, "But I won't say no to it."

Satisfied with the acceptance of her gifts, Byleth nodded soundlessly. The blank-faced girl then preceded to completely ignore both of her new friends in favor of the horses, a critical eye studying the various mares and stallions gathered within the stables. Her eyes landed over the Pegasus, narrowing in distaste so subtle that Christophe almost didn't notice it.

Ashe, poor boy, didn't notice it. And, trying to be the polite little gentleman his father was determined to make him, the new little brother tried to be politely inquisitive, "Do you l-ike pegasus?"

**Oh shit.**

Christophe felts something that must be akin to a soul leaving his body, or perhaps being winded after a good punch to the gut, because before he could even begin to interfere the little lady's eyes narrowed further, this time actually noticeable. The girl then looked the wing horses up and down, giving a flat, "No."

As expected of a Galatea, Ingrid's own eyes narrowed. The Gaspard shared a long look with the Gautier, both despairing at the innocent question that led them here as the blonde girl folded her arms, "Of course, Pegasus are the noblest and loyal of steeds, though not everyone can handle the responsibility."

"My grandfather says flying is for those whose heads are too empty for the ground." Byleth probably answered innocently, though her words were anything but. She presented them like she was sharing sacred wisdom, and nodded sagely as she did so, "The truest steed is the mighty war ram."

A shiver of fear and a long hiss escaped Christophe's lips. Dear Goddess, he can't believe this. They were little girls and already they were starting this. Looks like there was going to be a brawl during this ball after all, and the prince hadn't even arrived yet.

Ashe, clearly an angel deserving of a place among the Goddess herself, sent from the heavens just to save Christophe's ungrateful and unworthy soul, spoke and unknowingly saved his brother from a most terrible fate, "I l-ike horses."

To Christophe's utter relief, both girls were distracted by his brother's innocent comment as they turned and gave him twin measuring looks. Byleth, whether she was just trying not to disagree with her new friend or not Christophe couldn't tell, slowly nodded in agreement. 

"Papa says on the open ground nothing beats a horse."

Ingrid couldn't help but agree, though it was obvious she was more interested in winged beasts than earthbound ones. 

Sylvain, clearly uncomfortable with the awkward turn in the conversation, decided to come to the rescue. Where the boy had learned to smoothly slide into social situations and turn them to his advantage, Christophe had no idea. It must be from his father, who was quietly known to have as many mistresses as Christophe had fingers. Certainly not from his elder brother. Miklan was a prickly ass.

The red-headed boy stepped up next to Byleth and curled an arm around her elbow in a show of camaraderie. "Speaking of horses, you're here to ride, aren't you? You're not dressed up for the party."

Ingrid finally focused on Byleth's clothes as well. "Does that mean you're not here for -? Well, um...For Dimitri?"

Byleth's head tilted to the side in what might have been a show of confusion. Even Ashe was looking at her now and waiting for her answer.

She put her fist to her cheek. "Papa said I could come to the party to make friends. And to ride the horses here. Is Dimitri someone who I can make friends with too?"

Everyone, including Christophe, was sent reeling back. Did this girl not know what this party was for? Further, did she not know who **'Dimitri'** was. A closer look at her face, blank as it was, gave Christophe his answer. Byleth didn't recognize the name. She had no clue as to why she was invited here.

"You're joking!!" Sylvain laughed almost mockingly, but Byleth didn't take his words to heart.

She kept her head tilted in her hand as her gaze leveled in its usual creepy stare, "I would not wear my riding clothes as a joke. Bilbo worries I'd get hurt if I don't wear the proper outfit."

Everyone stared at her, shocked and disbelieving that this girl had no idea what this party was for; worst yet, who it was for. Then again, she'd been nonchalant when handing out precious gems to complete strangers she was deeming her friends. Christophe would have found it entirely unbelievable if he didn't suddenly remember that Byleth wasn't some ordinary noble. She was an Eisner.

"Of course," Christophe rubbed his temple. "You've lived on the mountain your whole life."

"The mountain?"

"Wait!" Sylvain's arm tightened around Byleth as his eyes suddenly grew wide. "You mean _the_ mountain?! The one where the cave people live?!"

Byleth frowned, "We don't live in caves. We mine them."

"Oh!" Ingrid smiled widely as she fingered her pretty stone as it twinkled like her eyes. "Then you picked these?"

She nodded, "From my bucket. But I have more greens if you want."

That made the other girl's eyes and mouth widen, but Sylvain was already jumping back in before she could respond.

"Forget jewelry!! You're one of those cave nobles!"

Byleth's brow furrowed and her eyes squinted, "We _live_ in a house."

"I've heard about you from Miklan!" Sylvain ignored her as excitement bubbled from every part of his body. "You guys fight giant monsters and wrestle trolls and hoard gold _and-and-and!_ "

Christophe wondered how many more 'ands' Sylvain was going to add.

" _You've wrestled trolls???_ " Ingrid gasped, making the conversation more ridiculous.

"No," Byleth shook her head. "Only Mirabelle when she doesn't wanna go in her stall."

Christophe had to say, it was pretty endearing watching Sylvain and Ingrid become the children they were, and ask Byleth all sorts of questions about being an Eisner and living life on the Sacred Mountain. It reminded Christophe of when he was younger and asked Byleths' cousin Varric Eisner the same questions. 

Come to think of it, Ashe had been pretty quiet this whole time, understandable considering Ingrid and Sylvain were dominating most of the conversation with their excitement, and well, despite the few weeks Ashe had been with them, he was still the shy little boy his father had brought home. Christophe glanced over at Ashe and found an uncharacteristic sparkle in his green eyes.

Okay...now he was a bit wary, Christophe had never seen eyes like that before? Should this be cause for concern?

"Are you a Bard?" Ashe asked, interrupting both Ingrid and Sylvain excited ramblings. The blonde and redhead stared at Ashe for a beat before whipping their eyes back to Byleth, twin sparkles as they waited for her answer.

"No," she said, and the three children were visibly disappointed," But my Father is a sub-par Bard according to Grandfather, and Grandfather is the best Bard on the Mountain." 

She said it quite proudly, her chest puffed up and arms on her sides, it was adorable.

"O-oh, will he play of we athk?" Ashe looked at her with hope in his eyes, Christophe wondered, were children affected by puppy eyes too?

"He will if I ask," Byleth promised, and Christophe believed her, not that he believed Jeralt would display any of his Bard talents at this ball, what with all the...other Noble's gathered. It would be too easy.

"Well," Christophe clapped his hands gathering their attention, "We did come here to ride horses after all, who wants to go first?"

Byleth whipped her whole body in Christophes' direction, practically vibrating with so much excitement, Ashe who was still holding on to her was vibrating too.

"Okay Byleth, pick out a horse and we'll get you saddled!"

The girl nodded silently, her blank eyes wondering over the stables as she studied her options. After a few moments, she walked over to one of the stalls, choosing a sensible-looking brown mare with a leaner body and gentle eyes, "This one."

"That one?" Christophe asked, his own eyes roaming over the other options, most of which were considerably nicer than the one she'd chosen. Not that her pick wasn't good, it was perfect for a child her age. A sensibly tempered horse that was a bit smaller than the rest was actually preferable right now, he just hadn't imagined a child would choose it over one of the bigger stallions or warhorses, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." The girl nodded, already moving to try and grab the things she needed to saddle the mare. But she was too small to do such a thing, and one of the stable boys, noticing her plight, swooped in to save her from the labor, which left her free to talk with him. "It's just like nanny Bilbo's pony. He's the one that taught me to ride."

"Oh?" Christophe quirked a brow, "Not your father? Or grandfather?"

"Well..." The girl looked upwards, then towards Ashe, who had since moved to clutch the back of Christophe's shirt nervously, his own eyes settled on the mare. He thinks that was the one Ashe had initially wanted, maybe, but the mousey boy wasn't about to say anything. Instead, his eyes moved towards another mare, a grey one not far off. Meanwhile, Byleth continued her story, "Uncle Fili and Kili were gonna teach me with father, but nanny Bilbo hit them with spoons and said if they tried they'd find themselves turned out of the house. So he taught me on his pony. He said he saved me from a day of riding rams up a mountain."

Christophe mentally praised that nanny as he tried to push Ashe towards the grey mare his eyes were trained on, quietly encouraging, "Go on Ashe."

Ashe twisted his hands together, but took his encouragement and padded towards the mare. The stable boys, seeing him, began saddling her.

It wasn't long before all the horses were saddled and the kids were ready. Sylvain had mounted his dramatic-looking black stallion with practiced ease, while Ingrid got distracted petting her white mare's nose as it nibbled on her hair. Christophe sighed. It was probably a good thing the little girl was already engaged. He knew Glenn didn't mind the tomboy girl. 

Christophe cupped his hands together for Ashe to use as a mounting step and then stood with his hand around the little boy's ankle, helping to keep him in the saddle as the mount started forward. "Do you think you'll be able to do this, Ashe?" 

His brother was pale, but he nodded. Ashe had had some practice with riding since he'd come to live with them. What he lacked was confidence, and maybe longer legs. Christophe let him go, prepared to catch him as Ashe wobbled once before righting himself and carefully nudging the horse forward towards the others who waited just a little ways off towards the gate.

Byleth was last. The brown horse turned it's head to eye her as she stood near its middle. Her tongue stuck out some as she readied herself to jump into the saddle. Christophe raised his eyebrows and motioned the stable boy to assist, but Byleth seemed to be determined to do it for herself. She stood on the block the boy had placed in front of her and raised her leg high towards the stirrup.

The blaring of pipes and trumpets echoed through the courtyard and through the fields nearby.

Byleth jumped in surprise, making the block teeter and fall while taking her down with it. Christophe gasped as the girl fell onto the dirty stable floor, the horse whinnying and backing away from her while she steadied herself on her hands and knees.

"Ah, Byleth!" Christophe hurried to her side as the stable boy fretted and helped her up. "Are you all right?"

He was thankful Byleth wasn't like other girls her age, more preoccupied with play and having fun the worrying about being embarrassed or getting dirty. She merely gave him a nod, no trace of tears or shyness in her eyes. Christophe sighed with relief, but couldn't help but eyeball her riding outfit now. Though the clothes weren't particularly fancy or flashy, they had still been clean and pristine when Byleth arrived.

The knees and legs of her pants were smudged with dirt and who knows what. There were still some bits of oat and hay desperately clinging to the fabric despite Byleth repeatedly dusting them off before giving up. Christophe tried to help, a little worried that Jeralt would accuse him of not looking after her properly.

Byleth stared into the distance when he took over, "What was that?"

"The horns?" Christophe gave up when he realized he was making it worse and stepped away.

"That means it's time to see Dimitri," Sylvain answered as he easily slipped off his stallion. "We gotta go or we'll get in trouble."

"Oh..." She sounded disappointed.

"It's okay, I'm sure you'll get to ride later," Christophe added quickly, hoping to cheer her up before she entered the lion's den again.

Well, Christophe said Lion's den but surely Christophe had entered the maw of the dragon because he could see Jeralt stomping his way over, his father cheerily chortling behind the Bear Lord.

"Lord Eisner, Father, I'm afraid whatever interrogation you may have for me will have to wait, we'll be late otherwise," Christophe said quickly, ushering the children in the direction of the palace. It was the first horn, so they'd be fine so long as they arrived by the third. 

"Yeah yeah, Byleth c'mere," Lord Eisner said, gesturing for Byleth to stay with him a moment, as Christophe gestured for Ashe, Sylvain and Ingrid to follow him. His father followed behind, a wide smile on his face as he walked with them.

"Father, why are you smiling like that?" 

_"Hohoho~!!"_ His father laughed once again, startling Ashe, "You'll see for yourself soon enough Christophe my boy!!"

Christophe didn't know how to feel about that. He did know, however, that wherever Eisners went, chaos had a tendency to follow. He just hoped, that whatever would happen, the Adrestians and Leicesterns would be smart and keep their traps shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other Culturally Faerghus traditions we've made up in our server fanon:  
> Bard!! In medieval times, particularly Celtic courts, Bard were a bit of a problem to have but a problem you wanted around in times when the King did the peasantry and general populace dirty!! Take the DnD skill of "Vicious Mockery" seriously, for Bards are meant to air the people's grievances. Particularly under Celtic law, it was forbidden for an unsightly king to rule, so a Bard was to prepare a diss track so hurtful that welts would appear on the King's skin
> 
> In Faerghus there are two notable Bard Houses, House Gaspard [because Writer Val said Ashe would tote play the bagpipes and it all rolled down from there] and House Eisner. And well...This Lonato and Jeralt were always friendly so both Houses have a history of being buddies being both Minor Lord's!!
> 
> What else...oh Pretty Stones are indeed Uncut Gemstones...like from the mines, the Mines of the Sacred, Lonely Mountains. If you know your Tolkien...You know.
> 
> About the whole interaction where Ingrid and Byleth almost brawled...Eisner's have a firm we aren't meant to fly, we were made for the ground only, and Byleth follows that rule strictly...until her dragon side come out that is. Jkjk. Anyway, the little spat was started some few centuries ago where Clan Galatea gifted Clan Eisner with a Pegasus and Clan Eisner was just like No, but rudely. Anyway some means words were said and they just agree to disagree now.


	3. Part 0-These Princesses on Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just...we love these kids.

Jeralt gave Byleth a once over, rubbing down the dirt on her pants with practiced ease, since she did like to run around the dirt in her Manor clothes. If the horns hadn't sounded when they did, she would've been able to get on the horse, and she wouldn't have fallen and gotten the riding pants Bilbo had packed for her all messy.

"Papa, Bilbo won't be mad I got my pants dirty will he?" Byleth asked, Jeralt looked up at her and gave her a reassuring smile.

"No, Bilbo specifically packed these to protect your legs, they were meant to get dirty, if they didn't Bilbo would be sad you didn't get to ride horses at all,"Jeralt told her, as he wiped the dirty of her face and fluffed her hair.

"There, it's not like Bilbo or Tauriel's work, but it's the best Papa could do,"he said as Byleth gave a little turn.

"Ok, let's go!" Byleth said, walking off in the direction Chris and her new friends went. She heard her Papa give a hearty laugh and follow after her, she followed their footsteps all the way back to the palace, stopping to look at a weird statue, or the best ones she'd seen since coming here, the Lion statues.

"So, did you make some friends?" Jeralt asked, Byleth looked up at him, and nodded her head.

"Yeah, they liked the pretty stones I gave them,"she said proudly, after those girls in the silly frilled dresses rejected her stones calling them stupid and ugly, Byleth had worried there weren't any good friends to make at the palace. But then she met Chris's little brother, and Lady Ingrid and Sylvain. They accepted her stones, and thanked her for them, and they didn't think Byleth was weird, or that the stones were ugly!!  
Yes, she made good friends, Bilbo and Grandfather would be very happy.

"Good...watch out for that Gautier boy," her father warned, and while Byleth wanted to ask why, she decided to leave it be for now. She wanted to go and meet this Dmitri so she could get back to riding horses...Unless Dmitri liked riding horses, maybe he'd be her friend and ride with her?

Soon enough she bumped into glass, after rubbing her nose and sticking her tongue out at her laughing father and new friends— _traitors all of them_ —Byleth was ushered by the second horns sounding. All the girls began to run on up and line up before the doors, Byleth herself was pushed by the crowd all the way to the front. The girls chattered excitedly, waving their weird triangle cloths in front of their faces, hiding their mouths, so strange. Maybe it was a good idea they didn't want to be her friends, Grandfather did warn her about these types of people.

_'If they hide their mouths with colorful cloths that match their dresses, all gaudy and done up...they are not to be trusted.'_

_'Don't worry Grandfather,'_ Byleth thought, _'I haven't let you down.'_

Glancing around, Byleth heard whispers about the door opening at the third horn, judging by the length of time between each horn, they had a bit more time to wait yet.

_Until they sounded anyway._

Silence filled the room, all eyes were raised to the doors, which swung open slowly. The creaking of the hinges echoing through the room.

First stepped out the a man in a white and blue uniform with a long stick, and then another with rolled up parchment. 

Then came through a man and a woman, who looked quite serious and scary. The man, had on a brown thick fur coat, and had blond hair and a mustache that Byleth thought wouldn't be fun to pull. The woman had orange hair, a matching dark red coat, that covered her dress.

"Presenting, **the Grand Duke and Duchess of Itha, Rufus Ogma Blaiddyd and Cornelia Blaiddyd!!"**

The walked down the steps, stood and turned to wait, Byleth wondered what for.

"Presenting, **His Royal Highness, Future Lord Sovereign of Faerghus, Future Thane of Fhirdiad and Itha, Grand Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd!!"**

That sent all the girls into...well into something, Byleth couldn't quite recall the saying Aunty Tauriel or Nanny Bilbo had told her, but they were acting weird about the Prince.

She kinda understood when he came out, he was dressed in the blues and whites of Faerghus as well as the Blaiddyd blacks her Grandfather had told her about. His hair was pretty gold, and his eyes from what she could see from here were a pretty blue...Now she was worried she didn't have a stone the color of his eyes for him.

The man with a stick called for silence again, as the Prince turned to the doors, arms behind his back.

"Now, **Presenting His Royal Majesty, Lord Sovereign of Faerghus, Thane of Fhirdiad, High Chieftan and King, Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd!!"**

And the room was suddenly filled with loud calling and cheering from many people, it was really loud. Was he really so great? Byleth looked up to see him walking in, and while he looked really big...he had a beard like Uncle Kili. That wasn't fun at all.

Then everyone started bowing, except the girls, they curtsied. Byleth, not one to be impolite no matter how much her uncles encouraged her, copied them, hoping her shirt was good enough since she hadn't worn the dress auntie Tauriel and nanny Bilbo. No one seemed to notice, though, so it must have been good enough.

The king was busy waving anyway, smiling pleasantly, in a way that reminded her of uncle Bofur, so she decided he wasn't so bad, even if his beard was. With this in mind, she decided that it was very important to be as polite as possible to him, so she straightened her back and put on the majestic face grandfather helped her with. 

His majesty, the grand duke and his scary wife, and the prince all stood together, each one taking a seat in front of a throne that was elevated on a stone stairwell that wasn't unlike the one her grandfather sat on for meetings. The king was the highest up, then the prince, then the grand duck and duchess. They all waited on the king to sit, then the rest sat down together. 

And, once they sat, a really fluffy looking man wearing the brightest colors Byleth had ever seen stepped out, a large and dangly feather falling from his hat, his moustache the most kept moustache she'd ever seen, a goatee on his chin. He was the kind of man her grandfather hated. And that man came out with a lute in hand, looking very pleased with himself. The Grand Duke, on the other hand, gave him the most poisoned look she'd ever seen, and she'd seen uncle Kili's face after someone insulted Aunty Tauriel once.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The feathered man announced loudly, his voice carrying over the whole hall, making whispers quiet down and getting people to stop movie around, "It is my pleasure to welcome you to this historic gala!"

There was a bit of clapping. Byleth tilted her head, wondering what was so historic about this particular party. Or what a gala is. She assumes that it's a fancy word for party.

"It is with greatest pride and deepest pleasure that I, Sir Jaskier the Dandelion, welcome and introduce the lovely ladies far and wide." The man grinned, picking up his lute and strumming. Suddenly, before she knew what was happening, a whole band of people were playing music, and it rang loud through the hall. She blinked, confused, as the line of girls suddenly started moving. Not knowing what else to do, she followed after them as, one by one, all the girls were presented to the royal family.

Or, well, the Dandelion fellow sang about the girls to the royal family. He made them sound very impressive.

Byleth was staring at the colorful plume of feathers on his hand when the bard strummed his lute and a soft lilt of notes came out. Gentle and welcoming, the man's fingers played across the strings and entrancing everyone with a sparkling smile.

"My dear, gentle audience, my lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, and princesses from all provinces. We're happy to that you've accepted our invitations, now sit back, and allow me to present you to the rulers of our most proud nation~"

Before Byleth knew what was happening, the music picked and suddenly there was a band playing from another part in the room. Happy notes tooted and sung from all the strange instruments and the man with his lute began to sing in a loud tune.

> **"Every single princess in the land**  
>  **Prayed to be invited to the ball**  
>  **Every Portia, Guinevere and Fran**  
>  **Would come by coach or boat to be here**  
>  **Most would swim the moat to be here**  
>  **Just to be at this historic gala**  
>  **Girls would walk around or even crawl**  
>  **Rumor is that at this joyous scene tonight**  
>  **The prince might be choosing his future queen tonight~!"**

Girls laughed and giggled while the adults hummed and tapped along to the song as the bard began to move about the room, smiling at each girl before going to the front and continue his energetic song.

> **"Beauty and glamour and breeding unmatched**  
>  **Princesses on parade**  
>  **Lovely, enthralling and all unattached**  
>  **The hoi polloi and those well-bred agree**  
>  **Each enjoy a royal pedigree**  
>  **Born for success, each possesses a spark**  
>  **Each a remarkable maid**  
>  **Boy oh boy these royal highnesses**  
>  **All have pluses, they've no minuses!**  
>  **Gaze upon**  
>  **These princesses on parade~!”**

Suddenly, he started to sing about each girl, amazing Byleth as he managed to know every single girl’s name and where they were from. Each one of them got a few lyrics to talk about their home and what kind of person they were, making Byleth suddenly very nervous. Should she have written something? Was this how people greeted one another off the mountain? With songs about their lives? _What if she was skipped over because she didn’t tell the fluffy bard who she was?_  
  
But her fears were quickly squashed as he suddenly looked upon her with a warm gaze and sung pretty words that reminded Byleth of Bilbo’s prettiest poems.

> _**“Lady Byleth of Clan Eisner** _  
>  _**Whose beauty without equal** _  
>  _**Mountain Daughter to the Mining Town** _  
>  _**Which flows with Jewels and Gold** _  
>  _**Armor Worn and Sword Drawn** _  
>  _**Beast and Foe she lay Waste.** _  
>  _**Brings joy, she does,** _  
>  _**Her presence grand,** _  
>  _**Alight within the Glow** _  
>  _**Of the Sacred Mountains light."** _

Byleth, wanted to offer the Bard some of her prettiest stones, but this was no time for that, some of the adults had stopped clapping, and the King was looking very worried, his smile was gone, and he was looking at the Grand Duke and then back at her. Oh no, did she do something wrong?

The Bard entered her line of sight again and winked at her before carrying on with the rest of his song. It made her feel a little better although she could feel all the eyes on her, she didn't like it. She only came to make friends not...whatever this was, she couldn't leave her place either, everyone was watching, staring. 

Soon enough the song came to an end, and the King stood up, like Grandfather did at the end of a feast to deliver his speeches. Would the King look as regal as Grandfather did?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a whole plethora of Faerghus headcanons namely the whole Chieftan thing, where Clan Blaiddyd was like the head Clan who lead all the other ones.
> 
> This fic is really just a fun excuse to write babies with some worldbuilding sprinkled in.
> 
> Also Jaskier!! Aka Dandelion, aka Julian Alfred Pankrantsz Viscount of Lettonhove, there's a whole headcanon that we made where we were like the country Shamir is from, the name of which escapes me atm, is the Continent in the Witcher Universe and Dandelion just bounced, he lives in Leicester but loves the Bard Culture in Faerghus, international popstar he may be, but he loves the history to Faerghi Bards.
> 
> As for the little poem, song and dance, if you recall Swan Princess the title and scene alludes to that, and credit goes to Katias who is watching us live write this fic on our discord, and came up with the basic schematic for that poem.


	4. Part 0-When's the date fur th' bridle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...ya'll been knew. But like...here it is.

Lambert was...troubled to say the least. He'd entered the Ball Room, merely moments earlier having reassured his son about the matter of a fiance, that Dimitri did not have to choose anyone at this ball. It was merely a formal event to weed out candidates, as his...helpful advisors often reminded him.

~~_Sons of rot._ ~~

And now having entered the throne room and glanced over the candidates, he wasn't too worried. There was the odd girl up front, wearing riding clothes with a bit of dirt on them, it wasn't too caked on, but it was obvious she'd been out riding. Did she not bring a change of clothes, more importantly, what was in the pouch she was holding, she looked so bored...and familiar. Frighteningly so.

Then the Leicestern Bard can through, and he could tell he was from Leicester by the way he dressed, feather in cap and bright colors? Definitely a Bard, he sighed and glared out his periphery at his older brother, Rufus who only glanced back at him with a smirk.

Honestly.

Lambert had to admit...the song was fun, especially considering the sheer amount of girls gathered for a chance to become "future Queen Consort" a relative title, considering Lambert had plans to have Dmitri formally engaged at 15 and no earlier than that. But it was nice how much information the Bard was giving him, and how much Dimitri was enjoying this celebration...until the Bard landed on her.

The girl in the riding gear.

Lambert should've listened to his gut, he really should have, because even the guests, those of Faerghus Clans knew what her presence meant for them and their daughters. And looking down at Dimitri, he found his son curious, more curious than he had been with every other family, the care and craft that had gone into the Ballad for the girl, Byleth Eisner, it was obvious that it was personally crafted, by who of House Eisner, Lambert didn't know, but it was full of warmth.

When it was all done, Lambert stood to address the audience, and saw swimming through the crowd of girls no one other than his personal hero, Jeralt Reus Eisner...

Oh.

 _Oh no._ _Brother.._ ** _.what have you done??!_**

Lambert watched as Jeralt reached his daughter and tapped her on the shoulder. She spun on her toes and pointed up to the dais where he and the rest of the royal family were standing. She lifted the pouch dangling from around her neck and spoke up to her father, who just raised his eyebrows and stroked the beard on his jawline before he shrugged and answered her. Both of them were unaware that eyes were on them from all sides. Either they weren't paying attention or they had expected as much.

There was no way an Eisner's appearance on castle grounds wouldn't cause a stir.

A cough to his side from his brother shook Lambert out of his thoughtful stupor. He shook himself and clapped his hands and smiled at the bard by way of dismissal. He waved Dimitri forward to stand beside him as he gained everyone's attention.

"What a charming way to be introduced to all these fine ladies! I won't take up much time, but before we begin, I want to thank you all for coming. It has been far too long since I've seen many of you. And that you've all set aside your work today to spend time with us means a lot. Prince Dimitri and I will spend some time greeting you all personally before we adjourn for dinner. I want you to enjoy yourselves today, our home is your home."

Lambert waved out towards the refreshment tables as people clapped and began to disperse. Before he could descend the stairs to join them, however, a hand pulled at his elbow and he turned to face Rufus. His humorless brother's brow was pulled down and he stared at Sir Jeralt Eisner, who now stood chatting with Lord Gaspard while his daughter had her head together with the old lord's newly adopted young son.

" _Gems._ That's what's in the pouch around her neck. I've been told she's been walking around handing out _uncut gems_ to anyone who will have them." He sneered. "As _gifts_ of friendship. **Don't mess this up,** Lambert."

Lambert, not for the first time, despaired his brother and his one track mind. His scheming, scheming, mind. He loved the man, but in times like this he would like nothing more than to throttle the man. Instead of doing just that he let out a long breath, heart hammering in his chest. "You could have warned me, Rufus."

"I did not expect they would actually attend." Rufus didn't even spare him a look, his eyes locked hungrily on the knight speaking casually with Lord Gaspard, "Much less that he would bring a daughter and offer her as one of the young hopefuls. Lambert, I shall disown you as my brother if you don't take this opportunity."

"That's Dimitri's decision, Rufus." Lambert once again despaired at the man, "And _even then-_ "

"Your boy is already making his move." Rufus cut him off, those eyes still trained on the group. Lambert felt a cold rush wash through his veins, and his eyes found themselves look over to where his young, innocent, oh so naïve son unknowingly broadcasted open favor for one of the contestants, his tiny body moving with the speed and nimble energy only a young child could manage as he beelined for the girl still in riding clothes.

_No son, don't do it, you're too young to die._

But it was too late, the boy had already made it to the group, eyes bright as he walked up to the girl, and Lambert could only watch in despair as the grown men around her realized what was happening. At least Dimitri seemed happy, his tiny little body practically vibrating with excitement as he began what was most likely excited babbling. And if Lambert knew his son, which he did no matter what ole' nan said, then he was probably remembering the stuff about swords and armor. Because Dimitri is a beautifully simple boy and never caused him trouble and liked stories Lambert knew how to tell. He's going to miss his poor son. He'll mourn that sweet child forever and always. 

"Well?" Rufus hissed, using that voice, the one that Lambert always imagined disappointed fathers had. "Are you going to let the boy do all the work? Or do I have to go over there for you?"

No.

Lambert loves his brother, he truly does, but if Rufus walks over there than Lambert would find himself absent both a son and brother. So, screwing his courage and puffing himself up, he stood tall like the king he was, readying to march into the jaws of death to save his only child from a terrible death.

The king may as well have been trudging through one of the thickest, muckiest swamps in the southeast of Faerghus. The kind that bordered Leicester lands, where the rivers met melting slush that snagged and stuck to ones' legs as they waded through knee deep sludge.

Except instead of muck, it was little girls.

A gaggle of giggling girls that tittered and fluffed their dresses and fans, shooting admiring looks at his son and dirty ones at the Eisner girl. It was times like this he was glad that he'd had a son instead of a daughter - for he'd seen the way court ladies would act when they didn't get what they wanted...

Finally, Lambert made it to Dimitri's side, bright (if not nervous) smile on his face as he greeted probably one of the more important guests to ever grace the halls of his castle. The Eisners were important, not because of their wealth, their mountain, their strength or their craftsmanship that was considered very valuable in times of need.

Their importance wasn't even because Lambert had practically worshiped the ground Jeralt walked on when he was at the Academy, nervous and young, peeking around corners to catch a glimpse of one of the great knights of Seiros. No, they were important to the history of Faerghus and the history of the Blaiddyd line.

Today was the day Lambert was to talk to the son of the man who killed Maglor Brutus Blaiddyd - previous king of Faerghus and the madman Lambert had once called father.

_No pressure._

"Lord Jeralt," The king noticed the man flinching at the title and felt foolish for forgetting how the Eisners disliked being reminded of their status. "It's a pleasure to see you here! How long has it been since we've last seen each other? Five, ten years?"

The other man rubbed the back of his neck, looking every bit as awkward as Lambert remembered when he gathered enough courage to talk to him. 

"Give or take... A lot has changed."

"Yes." 

_Enough to make you come here._

Lambert felt the sweat creeping down his back, Tailtean he was so nervous. It wasn't everyday you got to talk to your personal hero it also wasn't everyday you risked your life against him for your young son either, but such was Lambert's luck, he'd used it all up meeting Anastasia...

No, this was a happy occasion, and more importantly, he had a son to save.

"How fares your Father?" This should be a safe question, right?

Jeralt tilted his head, rubbing his chin,"Well, he was fine when we left."

_Sir Jeralt **please.**_

"He was complaining about his hip when we left Papa, then Bilbo hit him with his ladle," Byleth offered, staring up at the two of them, one of her hands clutching her pouch of gems, the other grabbing Jeralts pant leg. Glancing up at the Old Knight, he saw his features soften as he addressed his daughter.

"Yeah, he did now that I think about it, Da swore if he was fit enough to come he'd wring compensation for it from ya!!" Jeralt had a big laugh at that as did some of the neighboring Lord's. Dimitri giggled too, his large smile filling his chest with warmth. Alright, mission accomplished, Dmitri is saved.

"Oi Jeralt!!" They heard, turning their heads in the direction of... Lord Forrester, please Goddess, the Lord looked positively ecstatic, raising a glass in good cheer, much too happy for a man who's daughter failed to gain the attention of the Prince, not that Lord Forrester would care either way.

"Ya? Whit noo, ye drunken bastard!!" Jeralt called back good naturedly, Lambert's heart started pumping wildly, hand gripping Dimitri shoulder lightly, he pulled the boy back to his side, ignoring the complaints of the visiting Noble's and dignitaries around them. The safety of his son was paramount to their... _delicate_ sensibilities after all. Especially now.

"Father, what's wrong?" Lambert heard Dimitri ask, his sweet innocent son, he hoped Dimitri would forgive him in time.

 _"When's the date fur th' bridle!!"_ Lord Forrester jeered again, though Lambert was sure all the Faerghan Lord's believed the Eisners had gotten the hand of the Crown. And to be perfectly honest, were this a different time and place, Lambert would approach the Eisners first, if only because he could trust them not to come after the crown with ulterior motives.

And, they still weren't now...it's just Lambert was a little afraid for his life now.

"Father what's a bridle?" Dimitri asked sweetly.

_Oh my sweet innocent son..._

"It's a wedding," Byleth answered, and Lambert's internal screams sunk further within him,"I remember because Lord Forrester said the same thing to Uncle Kili when he married Aunty Tauriel."

"Oh," Dimitri said, Lambert would appreciate this conversation any other day but now,"Why'd he ask about a wedding?"

"I dunno," Byleth replied shrugging her shoulders.

Lambert looked up fearfully at Jeralt, and there was a grimaced set upon the Lords face.

"Forrester, kin we may be, but I swear to Tailteann...A'm gonna chop yer wallies oot!!" Jeralt shouted, making to approach the Lord, the crowd parted and Lambert considered letting this brawl go, if only to save Dimitri.

Lord Forrester quickly moved away, a smile still on his worn face.

"Aw, come noo Jeralt, tis juist a bawherr of fin, forby keek at th' laddie, he's in loue!!!"

He was going to ask Rufus if he could tax the Forresters a bit more this month.

It wasn't Lord Forrester that spelled his death, however. Rather, it was his own beloved flesh and blood, who decided he just didn't need to understand the ramblings of adults, nor did he particularly care about weddings. Instead his sweet, innocent, little Dimitri turned to face the object of the gossip, unknowingly stringing such talk along as he moved to speak to the girl, "So about those swords..."

"I like swords." Byleth answered him in kind, also completely oblivious to the deadly waters in which she now swam. She paddled along, unknowing of the dangers to which she dodged as she spoke to his son, all the calculating glares of the competition centered squarely on her, "My grandfather is teaching me. Or he was, papa is mostly doing it now."

"I'm learning swords from Glenn." Dimitri bobbed his little head, a shy smile spreading on his lips, "Though I like the lance better."

"So does my papa." Byleth nodded back, her own head bobbing, "It just means we'd be a good team if we teamed up."

"Really?" Dimitri tilted his head, a shy little smile that was sure to damn him to a horrible death spreading across his lips, his hands doing that little thing where they play with the hem of his shirt when he's feeling bashful. "You think so?"

"You know swords, and I know swords." Byleth nodded very seriously, "So you could us a lance to hit them from a long ways off, and not hit me because you know swords. And I can sword them."

"That makes sense!" Dimitri perked up at the words that made very little sense. "We should practice together and see while you're here!"

"Okay." Byleth nodded very seriously, her eyes resting very seriously on his son. She nodded again after a moment, then pulled out a little baggy she had, rummaging through it very a little knit in her brow. Lambert couldn't bare to watch anymore, and turned his attention back to the oblivious Jeralt, who was too distracted by his loud debating with Lord Forrester to notice the happenings. When Lambert could no longer bare to see that he turned to Lord Gaspard, who was watching him with a gleam in his eye and a twitching mustache.

_Oh no._

As much as he wanted to go over there and save Dimitri from a terrible mistake, he simply couldn't bare to do so. Dimitri was such a shy little lad. It as so hard for him to work up the courage to speak to strangers, and here he was making a friend all on his own. It was so sweet of him. Especially since Byleth wasn't dressed up like the other girls and wouldn't have fit in. He raised such a sweet boy.

And so it was that Lambert choose not to interfere with Dimitri and Byleth, instead diverting his attentions to Jeralt, "Sir Jeralt, the castle would be more than happy to cover the cost of a hip replacement if your father really demanded it. Our Grand Duchess, Cornelia, is the best doctor I've ever met."

Jeralt snorted and scratched his jaw in contemplation. "Thank you for the offer. Da is a proud man, but I'll ask him anyway. If he wants to keep on as he has been he'll need to do something, and I'm not ready to take over as Lord just yet. Goddess, save me."

Jeralt looked down as his daughter tugged on the hem of his tunic, raising her pouch over her head at him. Lambert could feel Rufus's eyes burning into the back of his skull.

"Papa, I've looked but I don't have the right stone!"

Jeralt raised his eyebrows questioningly as he knelt down to look for himself. "What do you mean? You brought enough of your pretty rocks to give to every person in this room if you wanted."

There was a hush of conversation around them as the nearby nobility discreetly eyed the little girl and her pouch of gems. Sweat beaded on Lambert's neck. Ah, so everyone knows then.

"But there isn't one the right color blue." If Lambert squinted he thought he might have seen a pout. 

With a surprised look, Jeralt took her pouch and poured a small pile of glittering rocks into his palm. He dug through them with his finger, oblivious of the crowd of people leaning over to glance at his handful of shining wealth.

"There are lots of blue ones in here, Byleth." He sorted out a few for her to look at as Dimitri scooted closer to see for himself.   
  
"But none of these are the same color as Dimitri's eyes!" There was maybe a hint of a whine in her voice now. 

"Ah." Helpless, Jeralt looked up at Lambert, and then down at Dimitri. He was obviously trying to discern any difference between Dimitri's blue eyes and the blue of the gems in his palm. 

Dimitri, Lambert's precious little boy, leaned over Jeralt's hand until he spotted something he apparently liked and pointed at it. "What about this one, Byleth?"

Byleth's jaw dropped, obviously shocked. "But that one isn't blue. It's not the color of your eyes!"

Dimitri picked up a little lavender colored gem and looked through it at Byleth. "No, it's the color of yours!"

_**Dimitri.** _

My boy....My _sweet, caring, **innocent** little boy._

Where did he learn such suave behavior?

All around them, the nobles were a flurry of whispers and gasps. Some of the women were fanning themselves while narrowing their eyes at the sight, quickly seeing the chance at their daughters to become the most powerful woman in Faerghus slip away. The fathers were equally shocked, but more so at how this had even come to happen.

And the little girls? Well, they were very...confused. The younger ones were staring at the jewels with their own sparkly eyes, while the older ones were fidgeting and looking to their parents for guidance. Lambert could already feel the growing tension in the room, but it only got worse when Byleth closed her mouth to stare for what felt like forever.

"...Okay. You can keep it if you really like it."

Then his sweet little boy did that thing that all children do, where they brighten the entire room with just a smile. The heavens opened and angels sang as clouds parted just for his son to grace the world with his adorable smile and rosy cheeks. Or maybe Lambert was bias, considering some of the other nobles only paled as the interaction went on.

"Thank you! I'll take good care of it!"

Ah. _So bright._

Jeralt, bless him, finally noticed everyone staring at them with sharp eyes. Half focused on the gems in his palm, and the other on his daughter. He sighed and poured the glittering jewels back in their pouch and stood.

"Byleth," he placed a hand on her head. "Let's let the other kids talk to Dimitri, it's only fair."

She blinked, the hint of a pout almost coming back before she nodded and took her father's hand. _"Ok."_

Lambert watched as Byleth walked off with Jeralt, the Lord shooting a flare back at him, Lambert smiled to assure the man he caught his meaning, but considering how Dimitri coveted the little Jewel in his hands, Lambert was absolutely sure...Jeralt would kill him and he'd have to honorably greet death.

"Come now Dimitri, we need to greet all of our guests," Lambert said to his son, gently hiding him in the opposite direction of the Eisners,"Make sure to pocket that gem, you wouldn't want to lose it in this big crowd."

"Right,"Dimitri nodded, and put it away in his hidden satchel, grabbing onto Lambert's cloak they began to walk around the Ball room, greeting visiting dignitaries, although it was obvious to all parties, that Dimitris' focus lay elsewhere.

Oh, Dimitri, what am I to do with you, and your heart that mirrors my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rufus in this fic, for first timers who did not read Eisner's Return, is a money grubbing, penny pinching binch, like...he likes a strong economy where everyone can benefit, which means he doesn't like increased taxes on the poor cause...how's the economy gonna get strong that way??? He bough brothels cause they're good for taxes.
> 
> Anyway, Dimitri really likes weapons as is canon fact based on his obsession with weapons, just like Felix, except well he likes lances better. And...he;s a baby bean, like all ya'll being like he's a bad boy??/ He's not, he's an anxious mess of a bean, he's a burnt cinnamon roll, been too long on this godforsaken earth.
> 
> Lambert, Lambert...has issues, stemming from one motherfucker named Maglor, he is why Rufus is the way he is, he is the reason Faerghus has problems, he is the reason Lambert is lookin at Dmitri like Dima is an angel, and let's be honest 7 year old Dima is basically an angel. He just wanna spar and play, and Byleth is like !!! Friendo!!!
> 
> He loves his son very very much, he loved his wife too, so he loves Dimitri extra cause that's all he got left of his wife. Anyway Lambert is basically good bean prototype.


	5. Part 0-I Wanna Meet The Sword Lady!!-Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Age 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohohohohohohohoooo!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For making it this far, you get a mega-honking chapter.
> 
> Jk, but for real there was no way to split this without breaking story cohesion, so enjoy!!

Dimitri had to have met hundreds of people by now, many of them were girls in frilly dresses. Really, frilly dresses. Were the frills for extra warmth, he'd have to ask Father later. There was a small upside to all the girls present, he got to make a friend out of the one girl from earlier, Lady Byleth.

She liked swords and fighting like Ingrid, and riding too, Dimitri was sure he saw here wearing riding clothes. Dimitri was glad he was able to make such a nice friend, it was the first time he did it all by himself too. Glenn would be proud of him, Gustave too!! Would Aunty Cornelia be proud of him too? He'd ask her later.

"Come along Dimitri, we've a few more guests to greet before the recess,"Dimitri heard Father say, his large hand hiding him through the sea of people, all large and imposing with their fans and frilly dresses.

Aunty Cornelia said that in Adrestia and Leicester the fans had a specific culture and meaning to them, a language of hiding ones intentions. Dimitri had asked why and Aunty Cornelia had gone off on a mad rant, in the end, she had advised him against choosing one as his Fiance.

_"They have come for the power and influence of your lineage, not to mention your homelands standing with the Church. Best to choose a potential candidate from Faerghus, dear, it'll be easier to break off later if need be."_

Although, Dimitri didn't understand a word of what she said, he did understand that he was not to be overtly friendly in anyway with anyone tonight, although he couldn't help when he found a new sparring partner. Felix loved swords, he'd be so happy to have someone who likes swords too!

"Greetings to the King of Faerghus, I am Viscount Nuvelle of House Nuvelle," A man with blonde hair and a willowy body, greeted Dimitris' Father and he, the man had light blue eyes, and...purple chunks of hair?

"Greetings Viscount Nuvelle, thank you for making the journey to Faerghus, I understand it's quite a ways away from Port Nuvelle,"Dimitris' Father replied.

The adults engaged in some small talk while Dimitri was left to introduce himself to the Viscounts daughter.

The young prince peered at the girl in the purple frills. Though she did have some fur, which was good, because furs would keep her warm. A lot of people not from Faerghus found it cold, which was weird, because it was only Autumn. The real cold hasn't come yet. But it's not their fault, they're from places that are always summer time warm. He almost felt bad for her, so he clutched his father's cap and bowed his head, "A pleasure to meet you Lady Nuvelle."

She smiled at him, and her lips were a light purplish color that matched her fur, and there was fur on the end of her fan too. Dimitri wondered what kind of animal had such purple fur, and why she painted her lips to match it. But he didn't, because he didn't want to be impolite, and Aunty had warned him that the fan language was super complicated. Lady Nuvelle snapped the fan open, waving it at her face slowly, and Dimitri wondered if that was supposed to meet something. If it was, then he didn't have time to figure it out before she curtsied with one hand, bowing her head and greeting him, "Greetings your grace, Constance Nuvelle of Adrestia at your service."

 **Adrestia!** Just like Aunty.

"Well met." He clutched his father's cape closer. Now he was at a loss what to say again. Most of the girl he met tonight already talked about things. Things they liked, things they wanted to do, where they got their dresses. Dimitri tried his best to pay attention to it all, but there was so much to remember. Most of the girls like singing and dancing and such, so he figures that's safe to talk about, since Constance was only looking at him from behind that fan. "Are you having fun with the Gala? Do you like the music?"

"Yes, I quite enjoy music!" She snapped that fan closed suddenly, giving him a smile. Dimitri calmed his heart, easing a bit of his nervousness. This was the first time since Byleth he felt like he'd done something right when talking to the other girls. 

A bit braver now thanks to his success, Dimitri decided to talk more about music, "My Uncle hired Sir Dandelion. My Aunty said he was very popular at parties she went to in Adrestia."

"Oh?" Constance was still smiling again, tapping the fan against her lips, "He is...he is...Tell me, is your aunt Adrestian?"

"Yes." He nodded, wondering if that was a bad thing to say. But everyone knows Aunty Cornelia was from Adrestia, so he thinks he's safe. "That's why she knew he was popular."

"Interesting." Was all Constance said.

Dimitri, not knowing what else to say now that the music turned into a dead end, felt his tummy twist. He wished he knew what to say, but he didn't. So he decided to try and guess, using all the things he learned from the other girls, "Your dress is pretty. I like the fur."

"I thought you would." Constance smiles again, tapping that fan still, "Fur and embroidery is the high fashion of Faerghus, so I hear."

"Fur is warm." Dimitri flapped his sleeves, "And the patterns are important."

Constance pursed her lips. "Yes. Father told me that everything had a purpose in Faerghus. I wanted to see it." She hid her face behind her fan. "But it's so cold here. I'm glad I'm wearing fur."

Dimitri floundered as he clung to whatever conversation he could keep hold of. "Nearly all my clothes have fur in them..."

Sensing the awkwardness between the two kids, Viscount Nuvelle coughed into his hand. "Who was that man you were talking with earlier? The one in the orange?"

Dimitri looked up at his father, who looked surprised. He wondered why. The man in orange had been a nice man, helping his friend Byleth choose pick a stone for a gift. His father just looked nervous though, and maybe a little pale.

"Ah. That was Jeralt Eisner, heir to the Eisner clan. Their family is rather... _infamous_ , in Faerghus."

The other man grinned. "Is that so? My daughter claims to have met his, and was given a gem similar to the one your son received. They must be a very wealthy family to just give away such baubles."

Dimitri whipped around again to look at Constance. She nodded and produced a blue gem from somewhere in the folds of her skirts. "She was a rather...odd girl. But how could I say no to such a gift?"

Excited, Dimitri pulled his own gem out to compare it. "Then you're Byleth's friend too?! We can all be friends together!"

Above, Constance's father nodded sagely. "Yes, I think I would also like to be friends with her father. I hope I'll someday get to meet him as well."

His father laughed, but it sounded weak and not as happy as a laugh should. Dimitri frowned, wondering why his father seemed to be weird about Byleth's dad. He'd been so nice and his eyes had been very kind despite his frown-y look. But Dimitri didn't have time to dwell on it for too long as the girl Constance sidled up to him, peering at his pretty stone in admiration.

"I didn't witness it, but you got to pick yours, right?"

Dimitri, suddenly very protective of his bobble, cupped it in his hands. "Yes! Byleth was sad that she didn't have any the right color, so I helped by picking."

Constance snapped her fan shut and released a loud, if not strange, laugh. It was the kind of laugh he had heard some noble ladies use when they came for tea with Aunty. They would all drink lots of tea and talk about other people and their stuff before hiding their mouths behind their hands. It reminded Dimitri of when his father told him to make sure he chews with his mouth closed.

**_"Ohohohohohohohoooo!"_ **

Dimitri gave her a weak smile before pocketing his stone.

"Truly! It's just like in fairy tales! The prince meets his soul mate!"

"My what?"

He noticed his father was becoming pale at the mention of this and suddenly Dimitri didn't want to meet a _'soul mate'_ if it made his father scared.

"Your destined one!" Constance said loudly, earning a few gazes. "The Prince and his princess to be! The knight and his fair lady! Your one true love~!"

Now everyone was staring and Dimitri suddenly felt much smaller then normal.

"I'm too little to be a knight." Dimitri muttered, burying his chin in his fur him, hands reaching out to grip his father's cape. He stared upwards at his father's pale face, "Father says I need a few more birthdays to be a knight. And I don't have a sister..."

Not that he hadn't asked father for one. He always wanted a sibling, and if he had a sister than Felix could marry her and they could be brothers for real. But the one time he asked his father how come he didn't have a brother or sister he got really sad and said it's because he didn't have a mama anymore. Dimitri doesn't remember his mama, but he knows she's gone, and he's learned since then that babies grow in their mama's bellies somehow, and they do _not_ , in fact, come from wolves that break into your house and leave them in cribs. So no, there aren't any princesses here.

Wait, Adrestia had a lot of princesses, were one of them here? He doesn't think so. Sir Dandelion said that all the girls here were princesses, but when he actually talked to them most were nobles or daughters of dukes and such. Dimitri looked around the room, trying to find a girl with a crown, but he didn't see any.

"Oh, you are simply a darling." Constance cooed, snapping open her fan, "How sweet. I could simply eat you up."

 **A witch!** Constance was a witch! Like the one that lives in the house made of cookies in the woods! Dimitri puffed out his cheeks, hiding his face in father's robes, "I'm not sweet, I'm a Blaiddyd."

"Adorable." Constance waved her fan, "Simply adorable."

_She was worse than Cassandra!_

Dimitri was about to defend himself and tell her that he was not adorable, because princes are not adorable, they are strong and valiant, but he didn't get that chance. Because Constance was suddenly raising her fan, waving it in the air, "Yoohoo~ Gertrude darling! _Over here~_ "

He looked over to see another girl walk up, her dress the biggest and fluffiest he'd seen yet. It had all sorts of frills and ribbons, and her fan was very fancy. Her hair was purple, and he swears she looks familiar, but he couldn't recall. He hopes she's not one of the girls he'd already talked to, because he can't remember her name. Though he thinks he'd recognize that dress....maybe...there are a lot of dresses.

There's something really wrong when Dimitri meets Lady Gertrude, he couldn't remember Mr. Dandelions song all too well, but Dimitri did know that Lady Gertrude was from Ingrid's family, a very Minor Branch. Ingrid was able to meet with him earlier and inform him of that fact, Dimitri also recalls the worry on Ingrid's face when she said this.

> _"Gertrude and her family...to say the least, I think she would do better anywhere **but** Faerghus."_

Dimitri wondered what Ingrid meant by that, would he get to find out now?

"Greetings to the King and Grand Prince of Faerghus, I am Gertrude Millicent Galatea, of House Galatea," she greeted, curtsying and...blinking rapidly up at him. Wouldn't her eyes get tired, also House? Not Clan, Dimitri wasn't sure if that made Ingrid's words make sense or throw him deeper into his confusion.

"Well met," Dimitri replied, putting on his best smile,"We thank you for coming to our gala."

A hand on his shoulder, Dimitri glanced back to see his father's proud face, worry still peeking through, why was his father so worried.

"It is an honor to meet your acquaintance Your Highness, I do so very hope we can become better acquainted in the near future~," Gertrude said, from behind her fan, her eyes narrowed and blinking rapidly.

Wasn't she going to get tired? Maybe it was a medical condition, Dimitri would ask Aunty Cornelia later, she would tell him and then he could help Lady Gertrude with her eyes!!

"Um. Are you okay?" Dimitri was really worried about her eyes. Maybe he should go and get his aunt now? It wouldn't be very good to wait if she was sick. But his and her father, and even Constance didn't seem to notice.

Gertrude reached out and grabbed his hand in between both of her soft gloved ones, letting her fan dangle from a ribbon tied to her waist. "Oh. I'm just perfect. Thank you for asking. Tell me your highness, what do you like? What are your hobbies?"

A purple fan snapped down on Gertrude's hand so that she recoiled with a gasp. Dimitri looked up at the fan holder in surprise. Wasn't Constance this girl's friend?

"Now, Gertrude, I didn't call you over here to embarrass yourself. You don't need to pull out all the stops with the Prince. He's already chosen."

Chosen _what?_

Up above, Dimitri's father made a choked noise. Was he getting sick? Was whatever Gertrude had contagious? 

"Ah, I wouldn't say he's chosen anything. Nothing is set in stone after all, just because they've made friends." Who was _'they'_? Him and his new friends?

"That's right, Connie." Gertrude was pouting now, holding her hand to her chest. "I deserve a chance too. I think the prince and I could become great friends if he'd only give me the chance." And there she was, flitting her eyes again. Dimitri really hoped it wasn't catching. He didn't want to look that silly.  
.  
He smiled at her, the smile his father said made people happy. He hoped it made Gertrude feel better. "Of course! I'd love it if we could be friends. I've already made so many today. We can all go play together later maybe?" He looked up at his father for approval. He got a rather unsure looking nod in response.

"If there's time. Probably not tonight. We'll have the dinner later. But perhaps tomorrow would be a good chance for just the children to spend time together?" His father appeared thoughtful. Dimitri nearly jumped with excitement, but tried to keep his composure like his uncle had told him to. A day to play with his new friends!? Maybe he could get Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid to come, too!

"Oh please!" Gertrude looked up at Dimitri's father and did that thing with her eyes. "I would very much like to spend more time with the Prince." Next to her, Constance gave the longest sigh Dimitri had ever heard. She caught herself after a moment, and looked up embarrassed at her father, who just rolled his eyes and patted her on the head.

Dimitri's father nodded. "I'll talk to-" He turned pale again. "I'll talk to the other parents and see what they think. Many of them may have to get back to their holdings."

Dimitri nodded and gave the girl another smile, hoping that was answer enough. What he got instead was a squeal as the girl grabbed his hands again and squeezed. Constance looked appalled, but Dimitri was just confused.

"Thank you, Prince Dimitri~! You're so kind, and brave, and strong."

The boy felt his stomach drop at the last mention and was suddenly worried this girl had seen how strong he was. He'd been super careful today too because of how important this party seemed to be. It was all for him (even though it wasn't his birthday or nothing) and he couldn't go around accidentally breaking things left and right. So how did she find out!? 

Dimitri gulped, wondering if she perhaps saw him pulling off the doorknob before he was called in to get ready for the day.

No no no, that's silly. No one had been here yet! She was just being nice, that's all!

"U-Um," Dimitri smiled, eyeing her hands and suddenly worried he'd crush her little fingers despite not even really holding them. "Thank you."

She smiled and blinked her eyes again while her face got really, really close. Dimitri leaned back, suddenly feeling awkward as she practically shoved her face into his. This was so weird, but he has to be polite! Perhaps he should talk about other stuff? But he didn't know anything about dresses and fans. She was Constance's friend though, so that meant she probably met Byleth too?

Dimitri smiled shyly, "U-Um, did you meet Byleth too? Did she give you a present?"

Gertrude's eyes suddenly sharpened like Uncle Rufus' when he found a number mistake on his papers and her hands grew tighter over his own.  
  
"No. I don't need such frivolous things." SHe looked made and Dimitri wondered if he said something wrong. "I have...I have a thousand at home anyways!"

He blinked in shock, "You do?"

She nodded, though her eyes looked unsure. "Y-Yeah. All in my super big chest! I-In my tower!"

Constance gasped, "You don't have a tower!"

"Y-Yes-huh!"

Suddenly the two girls were arguing with one another, Constance calling her friend a liar and Gertrude huffing and puffing as she claimed to tell the truth. Dimitri wasn't sure what to do, not even the adults felt comfortable stepping in to stop them until a fan appeared from nowhere and smacked Gertrude on the head.

" _O-Owwwiiieee!!"_

"Gertrude," an older woman's voice hissed from behind her. "What did I tell you about spreading tall tales?"

"G-Grandma Brunnhilde!"

Oh no, was she in trouble for something? Dimitri should help her, or at least he would've if Father hadn't led him away.

"Well then, pardon me Dame Brunhilde," his father said in lieu of greeting, and Ingrid's granny waved his father and he off as they finished greeting the rest of the guests. It was all a blur to Dimitri, and he was very...tired by the end of it. But that was okay because, he'd made three new friends!! _All on his own!!_

The guests had been given free reign of the public areas of the castle until dinner that evening, with the dispersal of crowds, Dimitri had been told he was to retire until the Evening feast. Which meant a bath and then a change of clothes. But, Dimitri wouldn't need to bathe until much later, the Sun was still fairly high in the sky which meant...4 more hours, plenty of time to wander around. Maybe he could find his friends!!

"And what's got you smiling from ear to ear," Dmitri heard, losing track of his plot, Aunty Cornelia had called for him, in her fur coats and traditional Faerghan garb.

"Aunty Cornelia!!" Dmitri smiled, walked towards his aunt, pride in each step," I have made three friends today, all on my own!!"

His Aunt looked at him and then took out her fan and waved it before her face.

"You've miscounted Young Prince, you have made an ally, a fiance, and a nuisance."

A nuisance?

"What is a nuisance?" Dimitri asked his Aunt, Aunty Cornelia did not begrudge him his not knowing, and encouraged his asking of questions.

"A disturbance; something that is annoying, unpleasant, or obnoxious," she explained, walking towards the gardens, her handmaiden's, walking behind her, she paused waiting for Dimitri to walk beside her which he did gladly,"The Eisner girl will make a good fiance, you have made a most excellent choice for the Kingdom, the Nuvelle girl is a wonderful ally to have—"

"A friend Aunty Amelia," Dimitri reminded her, Aunty Cornelia always referred to friends as Allies but that was okay.

"One supposes," she replied, waving her fan in front of her face slowly," Now what does the Young Prince think of the nuisance?"

"You mean Lady Gertrude?" His Aunt raised her brow, yes that must be her," She's my friend as well Aunty Cornelia, and I think she may be sick."

"Oh?" Aunty Cornelia said, her eyebrows raised quite high, her fan lowered to reveal the beginnings of a smile on her face, surely she was ready to help poor Gertrude,"Do tell."

Dimitri held her skirt as he walked, something uncle Rufus never let him do, but Aunty Cornelia seemed to like it when he did that, even if she pretended she didn't. Besides, it made it easier not to get lost or left behind when he did that, because sometimes Aunty gets stuck thinking about grown up stuff and doesn't notice she's walking fast. "She blinks a whole awful lot. A lot a lot. I think she's got something wrong with her eyes."

"Her eyes you say?" Aunty Cornelia folded her hands in that way she does when she talks to people in the medical rooms. He liked going to those rooms and watching her work, he learns all sorts of things when he's there. Like what not to touch, and what certain things mean, and what certain plants do when you eat them. He's learned that you smell lavender to go to sleep, but you can't eat nightshade or you'll die. And you gotta pour alcohol over wounds before you sew them up or else you'll die of...of... _affections!!_

He should get Aunty to teach him to sew! Then he can help her heal people up so they don't die of affection!

"Yes," Dimitri pats his eyes, he'll ask her to teach him sewing later, right now Gertrude needs help! "I think she may be going blind like ole' nan! Maybe that's why she blinks a lot!"

Aunty Cornelia hummed long and deep at that. She hums a lot, and has a lot of different hums for different things, but he doesn't know what any of them mean yet. He just know that she hums a lot when she's thinking about what to say, and it's her way to let people know that she's thinking. She finally says something after a bit, tilting her head to look down at him, "No, I don't think she's going blind. Though, given her clothing, it is not a bad assessment on your part."

"Oh!" Dimitri perked up, "Then that's good! She can see!"

"Yes, she most certainly can." Aunty Cornelia reaches over and gives him one of her rare pats on the head. He feels his belly going warm then, because Aunty only gave him head pats when she thought he did something smart, and he likes being smart because that makes her proud of him. "Don't worry about her eyes Dimitri, it's one of those things little ladies from Leicester do. She probably learned it from her mother."

"Oh." Dimitri nodded, suddenly understanding. Aunty had told him that Adrestians and Leicester and Sreng and Duscur and all sorts of other people would have things they do that don't make sense to him. Father always said that he didn't have to understand these strange things, he just had to accept it. And Dimitri is nothing if not a valiant and accepting prince! So he'll accept it even if he doesn't get it! "Okay."

His Aunt looked at him out of the side of her eye. "Well, at least you're learning. I heard you were very diplomatic out there. Your Uncle won't say it, but he was happy you made a ... _relationship_ with the Eisner girl. And rumor has it you were even charming." 

Dimitri could feel himself glowing. This was truly a good day. Aunty Cornelia's compliments were uncommon, and here she was calling him charming and telling him what a good job he did. Maybe he should try and talk to his uncle? Rufus's compliments were even rarer, and usually Dimitri was never sure he was being complimented at all. But today had been good enough that he might just give it a try.

"I didn't do anything special Aunty. I just smiled like Father taught me."

"Yes, that is one of King Lambert's more useful skills. If you're lucky you'll grow up to be as likeable as he is. He needed to be, considering the up hill battle he had to fight to get where he is today."

Dimitri frowned in confusion. He didn't know his father had had to fight anyone to become King. Had he fought Uncle Rufus? Is that why his uncle was so sour? But no, as far as Dimitri knew Uncle Rufus didn't want to be King. According to his father, Uncle Rufus just wanted to sit in his tower and rub coins together - which was an odd hobby but Dimitri wouldn't judge. 

Dimitri felt his aunt nudge his shoulder. "I have some work to do now, prince. Why don't you run along and do...whatever little boys do when the adults aren't paying attention."

He jumped to attention. "I need to go find my friends and tell them what happened! Thank you Aunty!"

Cornelia just waved him off as he turned and sprinted back down the hallway.

The next hour went by quicker then Dimitri ever wanted it to. First, he managed to locate Ingrid and Sylvain before meeting up with Glenn and Felix who were hiding out in the armory. They were poking and prodding at swords (well, Glenn was, Felix was sniffling because they were all too heavy for him) when their group formed together, each laughing and teasing before Glenn started asking weird questions.

"Did you find yourself a girlfriend, Dimitri?"

"Ah..." The prince blinked, having been admiring Glenn's practice swings while his fingers itched to try. "Y-Yes! I made three!"

"Whoa-ho!" Glenn laughed while Sylvain snickered.

"Three girlfriends, Dimitri?" Sylvain asked with a sly grin, "Why - that's more then I ever had at once!"

The red head was suddenly bopped in the back of the head by Ingrid's fist, "That's not what he meant and you know it!"

" _Oooooow_ , it was just a joke!"

Dimitri frowned as the older boys laughed, leaving Felix, Ingrid, and him pouting. "But, I did make three girl friends. It's not a joke..."

"I'm sure you made some great friends," Glenn added with a confident nod. Felix, always one to mimic his brother, also nodded while latching his hand onto Dimitri's wrist.

"Glenn's always right."

Dimitri, happy that they were agreeing with him, smiled at Felix. "Yeah! And one of them really likes swords!"

Felix gasped while Glenn stopped his swinging to look at them, "A girl who likes swords? Impossible!"

 **"AHEM!"**  
  
They all turned when Ingrid stomped her foot, mad that he would make such a claim while she was here. "Except Ingrid - but she's not really a girl, so..."

That riled her up and she was immediately on the older boy like a cat pouncing on a toy, smacking him with her tiny fists that didn't really do much but make Glenn laugh. This was pretty normal and Ingrid had never really gotten mad enough to hurt Glenn and he seemed to enjoy teasing her. Dimitri wasn't really sure why though, maybe it was an older kid thing?

Sylvain walked up, leaning against Felix until he was smooshed between him and Dimitri, "It was Byleth right? She's the one you're picking?"

"S-Sylvain!!" Felix sniffled as big tears pooled in his eyes as he tried to push the red head away. "You're heavyyyyyy!"

Dimitri frowned, "Pick? Why do I have to pick when I can play with all three?"

Sylvain, Ingrid and Glenn stared at him, exchanging glances amongst each other. No fair, they weren't answering his question, why would he have to pick one of his new friends besides, Glenn was always complaining how Ingrid needed new Lady Friends, maybe Constance or Byleth could be her friends too...but maybe not Gertrude. Something told Dimitri that trying to get Ingrid to get along with Gertrude would be like getting Felix to hold a practice lance.

Hard and full of tears.

"Hey Prince," Sylvain asked, leaning into him further, possibly crushing Felix, which meant Dimitri leaned further away," You do know why we held the Gala today right?"

Dimitri nodded,"Father said it was for candidates, to weed them out...How do you weed people?"

Sylvain exchanged a sly glance with Glenn who merely glared back at Sylvain.

"Sylvain, get off Felix, he's crying," Glenn said, beginning to draw his sword, Sylvain righted himself immediately, at which point Felix hiccuped and grabbed Dimitri shirt, sniffling loudly.

"Well...that aside," Ingrid began,"I would recommend for your ideal candidate...do not choose Gertrude."

Dimitri tilted his head, and lightly tapped Felix's back,"Why? Is it because she keeps blinking really fast?"

"Blinking really fast?" Sylvain and Glenn echoed as Ingrid groaned, her hands rubbing the sides of her head.

"Yes, I asked Aunt Cornelia, because I had thought she was sick, or going blind like Nan, but she said that Gertrude just learned it from her mother."

Sylvain and Glenn just looked more confused.

"Ingrid?" Glenn asked, watching his fiance as she went through several emotional stages before addressing Glenn.

"Remember how that one Lady from Leicester flirted with you before she found out we were engaged?" Ingrid reminded him.

Glenn was silent for a moment, before he shared a look with Sylvain, and the pair began to quiver and shake before they busted out laughing.

"Oh, oh Tailtean, _blinking fast_ , is that what we're calling it now?"

Dimitri pouted, but before he could stop them from laughing, he felt a tug at his shirt, looking down Felix was rubbing his eyes.

"I don't like Gertie...she's mean."

Dimitri frowned, not liking that Gertrude was mean to Felix before. She had seemed really nice when they were talking with Constance, but if Felix said she was mean, and if Ingrid said that he shouldn't " _choose"_ her than that was good enough for him. So he walked over to Felix and patted his upper back, "Don't worry Felix, I won't let her be mean to you. If she's mean than she can't play with us."

Felix gave a watery smile, nodding his head.

"Oh? Are we going to play with them?" Sylvain asked, fluffing his hair.

"Well...yes." Dimitri frowned, twisting his hands together. "They're my friends now, so it seems only right to invite them to play with us. Then we can all be friends."

"That's..." Glenn started, but then he paused, rubbing his chin with his hand, looking like he was thinking really hard. He made a 'hummm' sound, like papa does when he's doing paperwork. Then he smiled, "That's not a bad idea. Then we can make sure they're actually nice and not just trying to climb the ladder."

Sylvain made an interested noise at that, "Ohhh, good idea."

The prince frowned, hugging Felix close. Now, he's not the most aware person in the world, and he doesn't really know a lot about adult things, but he's been around the royal court long enough to know what ladder climbing means. It's when ladies talk bad about other ladies so they can try to marry his papa.

"Wait...you think they want to marry my father?" The idea was...unbelievable, but terrifying if it were true. "That can't be right. They're too little. And nice. Especially Byleth. No, I don't think they're ladder climbers."

Glenn and Sylvain blinked slowly and looked at each other, while Ingrid stared at her toes and Felix sniffled. Finally, Glenn reached out and put a hand on Dimitri's shoulder, a look of concern on his face. "Your highness, my Pa says I need to work on being more respectful, so I mean this with as much respect as I can, but you **can't** be _this_ stupid."

Dimitri's eyebrows shot up, Sylvain let out a loud guffaw of laughter, and Felix's jaw dropped.

"Glenn! That wasn't respectful at all!" Ingrid put her fists on her hips and glared at the older boy with the ferocity of a small snow lion.

" ** _What?_** " Glenn raised his hands in defense. "He has to know. Your highness, you have to know who else in the royal family will get married someday. Who many pretty girls might try to meet just for the chance of becoming a queen?"

It hit him all at once. Uncle Rufus was already married to Aunt Cornelia. His father was too old to marry, maybe ever again? Dimitri wasn't sure what the rules were. That left only one person. " _Me?_ They want to marry _me?!_ I'm too young to get married! I'm just a kid!"  
  
Glenn and Ingrid looked at each other and Dimitri blanched. They had been engaged since Ingrid's birth. Apparently you couldn't be too young to get engaged, at least.

Sylvain rocked back on his heels. "Didn't you know what this party was for?"

"I just thought it was so I could meet some people my own age. To make friends!" Despair wrung at Dimitri's soul. He had made so many friends today and now some of them maybe only wanted the throne.

"Actually," Ingrid stepped forward and put her hand on Dimitri's arm, trying to comfort him. "I think you did pretty good today. We met Lady Byleth earlier, and I think she was here just to make friends too." She pulled a green gem from a pocket in her dress, and Sylvain pulled out a clear amber stone. "My cousin Gerdie though..."

"That's two. Who was the third friend you made?" Sylvain tossed his stone up into the air and caught it.

Dimitri sighed, he was only slightly relieved to hear that Byleth, at least, didn't want to marry him. "U-Ummm. Lady Constance, of House Nuvelle?"

The redhead snorted. "Oh, you'll be fine there. That house likes to keep to themselves, if you know what I mean."

Glenn rolled his eyes. "You already tried to meet her, didn't you?"

Sylvain only smiled, though Dimitri thought it was a little sad. "Her dad ran me off."

Ingrid began to scold Sylvain like an adult would, shaking her finger just like Lady Brunnhilde shook her fan at her granddaughter with that same angry look. The red head didn't seem to care though and started talking about all the other girls he was chased away from, earning more stomps from Ingrid and laughs from Glenn. Dimitri didn't really pay attention though, not when he was suddenly very nervous about finding a wife.

"B-But...I'm not ready to get married!"

Glenn, who was holding Ingrid back from throttling Sylvain by keeping his hand on her head, laughed at him. "My dad says no one is ever ready."

Of course Glenn would hear that from his dad, he'd probably said the same thing at some point. Still. He really wasn't ready! He just learned how to polish a sword, how is he going to take care of a wife!? Nervousness bubbled up in his tummy and Dimitri found himself rubbing the stone Byleth gave him.

"D-Dimitriiii?"

The prince stopped worrying his stone to look at Felix who was close to tears again, cheeks, nose, and even his forehead was rosy and pink and there were signs of his eyes already puffing up.

"I-If you don't wanna, I can m-marry you."

"Thank you Felix, but it's okay," Dmitri said, calming him down.

Felix nodded his head, sniffling some more, trying to get rid of the snot and puffiness of his eyes. Ingrid sighed, and took out her handkerchief, patting down Felix's face. Sylvain saved and forgotten.

"It's... probably for the best if we leave this topic for now, His Majesty did say it was to weed out candidates," Ingrid assured him, folding her handkerchief and putting it back in her pocket.

"What'd your Aunt and Uncle say?" Sylvain asked from behind Glenn, the older boy annoyed at being Sylvains shield.

"I haven't spoken to Uncle, but Aunty keeps calling Constance an Ally," Dimitri said, and then he thought about it some more,"And Miss Byleth a...fiance."

Dimitri paused, and pretended to be his Aunty waving her fan,"'A most excellent choice for the Kingdom', is what she said."

Glenn and Ingrid hummed. 

"The Grand Duchess is right though, Lady Byleth, despite her reason for coming, is the most obvious choice for your fiance," Glenn said, looking very much like his father Rodrigue in that moment.

"Not to mention she's not after material wealth or power considering,"Ingrid took out her gem and gestured to it like it was obvious.

"Plus...she likes riding, fighting and she was already friends with House Gaspard too!!" Sylvain added.

Dimitri didn't understand why any of that mattered, but that was fine, if they liked Byleth enough they wouldn't object if Dmitri sought her out so they could play.

"I don't get it, why does that stuff matter,"Felix spoke Dimitris' thoughts aloud, then Felix stomped his feet,"It's not fair you got to meet the Sword Lady, I wanna meet her too!!"

"It's okay Felix!" Dimitri rushed to his friend's side, holding him in a hug because Felix liked hugs but he especially like Dimitri's hugs. "We can both play with Lady Byleth. She likes swords, you like swords, I'm sure you'll be great friends."

His words seemed to make Felix feel loads better, so he sniffed and whipped his eyes dry on Dimitri's sleeve. The prince didn't mind though, because Felix is his friend and he cares more about Felix than dry sleeves. Besides, father said that a prince should always be willing to lend a hand to those in need, and sleeves went down to his hands, so same thing. Nodding to himself, he patted Felix's had, "We can go find her right now and ask her if she wants to word with us if you want."

Felix nodded again, smiling this time. Dimitri felt his chest go all warm and fuzzy. Felix might be older than him, but when Dimitri cheered him up it felt like he was a big brother like Glenn. He always wanted to be a brother, so that was nice. Even if he wasn't a real brother. 

Forgetting all this ladder and marriage stuff, Dimitri resolved to find Byleth so she and Felix could be friends and they could spar together and become master swordsmen. Then they could go on grand knightly adventures and battle trolls with their swords while he and Ingrid and Sylvain used their lances. Glenn couldn't come though, because Glenn was the responsible one and he'd tell Gustav, and then Gustav would come along and do all the slaying with his giant axe. But that was later times, for now he had to find Byleth and make sure she and Felix were bestest of sword friends first. And to do that he needed to find Lady Byleth.

Oh! Maybe Constance would want to watch? Then he can let Ingrid meet her and she'd have girl friends!

Formulating a plan of ultimate friendship within his head, Dimitri thought really hard about how to find Byleth and Constance. She'd be at dinner, right? He'll invite them to play after dinner! Perfect!

Dimitri and his friends spent the rest of their free time wandering the castle looking for Byleth and Constance ( _"N-Not Gerty!" Ingrid had squeaked, "She'll just spend the whole time talking about how unladylike it is to hold a lance!"_ ). But their luck wasn't that good as they ended up running into Ingrid's worst nightmare and Constance who was sitting in the shadiest part of the green house.

The moment he was spotted, the girl in purple latched onto Dimitri's arm and refused to let go. This only ended up making Felix upset, because he already had the prince's other arm and she was slowing them down. They couldn't play swords like this and that only made the sniffling boy even more upset, which made Gertrude annoyed that he was crying.

That turned into an ordeal Dimitri rather not repeat ever again. He was thankful when his Nan came to get him so he could get ready for dinner. They seemed to have to change their outfits a lot today - probably because girls liked outfits...

Would that make the girls like him more then? Did he want that? He wasn't sure. All Dimitri knew was that his belly feel heavy and the back of his throat all gurgle-y. 

At least his Nan seemed to notice how queasy was and didn't hurry him up as he was getting ready. She even helped him pull his hair back in a special way and gave him a few encouraging words.

Too bad he was too nervous to hear what she was saying.

It wasn't until he was standing with his father outside the dining hall that he drummed up the courage to tug at his cape.

"Hm?" The king smiled down at him kindly, "Yes Dimitri?"

He swallowed, his stomach doing flips as he tried to calm down and use his words. "A-Am I getting married?"

His Father made a sound, a really high pitched one, Dimitri couldn't believe it had come from his proud, noble Father. It...was like a whistle...and shattering glass?

"W-where in Loogs name did you hear that?" His father asked him, and Dimitri looked down at his dress boots, and fiddled with his sleeves, feeling guilty. Was he not supposed to find out about it?

"I was telling Glenn, Sylvain, Ingrid and Felix about the new friends—" Dimitri explained, and while he did, his Father patiently waiting for him to stammer through everything.

"Are you mad?" Dimitri asked, as he peeked at his father, who had an easy smile on his face for him. His father placed a hand on the side of his face, rubbing his thumb in slow circles on his cheek.

"I'm not mad, I was just...I was worried," his Father admitted,"But yes, this gala was to find you someone to marry someday, but it's fine if you didn't."

"B-but, Glenn said I did...all I wanted to do was make friends," Dimitri admitted, fiddling with the bit of his father's cape clenched between his hands.

"I assure you, you did well, you made a friend all on your own!!" His father assured him, but Dimitri didn't know if he should believe him.

"Friends...although maybe not Gertie, Aunty Cornelia called her a nuisance," Dimitri said sadly. Then he felt the hand on his face leave only find both his father's hands on his shoulder.

"You spoke with your Aunt Cornelia about your friends, **_what else did she say??_** " His Father asked, face close and eyes wide with horror.

"Uuhm...she said Constance was an ally,"Dimitri confessed, suddenly nervous from his Father's fear, why was he so worried about what Aunty Cornelia said, she wasn't like Dame Brunhilde, or Sir Voltaire,"And that Byleth—"

"What did she say about Byleth??"his Father asked in a shaky tone, his body quivering.

"T-that she was an excellent choice for the Kingdom??" Dimitri answered. Why was Father so scared, Dimitri wished someone would just answer his questions.

His father hissed and ran his fingers through his hair, making some strands stick out in weird placed so Dimitri had to hold back a giggle. "If this gets out, Lord Jeralt will ki-" He stopped himself and looked side to side nervously before he knelt down to put his hands on Dimitri's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "Miss Byleth, you do like her, right? You two seemed to get along."

Dimitri blushed, but nodded. "She's my friend! And she likes swords and horses. We're going to be a team because I like to use lances more, like her papa does."

His father's lips thinned and he ran his hand through his hair again, making it even worse so this time Dimitri couldn't help himself. He laughed, causing his dad to look at Dimitri in surprise before noticing and tugging on one of the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face. His father chuckled a retaliated by ruffling Dimitri's carefully brushed blonde hair so that it became a tangled mess. 

Dimitri screamed and laughed trying to defend himself from the assault, but it was too late. Nan would be furious at father if she found out. His father must have noticed he'd gone a bit too far, because he cringed and started using his fingers to try to fix the mess.

"Nothing is set in stone. You're not getting married, and you can be friends with whomever you wish. I'll talk to her father tonight at dinner, and ask if they can stay another day to play with you. Would you like that?"

"Yes! And Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid, and Glenn! And Connie too! Please!?" Dimitri reached up to grab his father's wrists, but he wasn't strong enough yet to stop him.  
  
"Connie? Miss Constance Nuvelle is your friend as well then?" His father pulled at a particularly tough tangle, making Dimitri's head sore so that he slapped at his father's fingers until he let go with a resigned sigh.

"She got a stone from Byleth too! So did Ingrid and Sylvain. I want Felix and Glenn to meet her."

His father gave up on Dimitri's mop of hair and stood, then held out his hand for Dimitri to take. "As you wish then. No guarantees, their parents are busy people. But I will ask. Anyone else?"

Dimitri took his father's hand, practically glowing with the thought that he might get to spend some more time with his friends before they all left the castle. "Should we invite Gerdie too? I don't want her to be lonely, but Ingrid says she is a ladder climber."

His father squeezed his hand and chuckled. "I don't know where you both learned that word, but I don't want you to worry about that. Let me and your Aunt and Uncle worry about that. I'll invite Miss Gertrude as well if you wish, or if you think it is right."

"Okay." Dimitri nodded, because his father could fix anything, so if he said he could fix it then he would. And Aunty Cornelia was even helping him, and she was the smartest person ever. But don't tell uncle Rufus, because he's the other smartest person ever, but isn't as nice about it, which Gustav says makes him less smart than Aunty.

"Right." Father patted his hair, smiling all big and wide, "Just leave it to papa. You just worry about having fun tonight, okay?"

That sounded very nice! Dimitri likes to have fun. And he can mind his manners for the feast. Or, really, he can be the most mannerly really easy at feasts because no one else really cares about aunty Cornelia's and uncle Rufus' etiquette lessons. Most of the lords just threw things, usually drinking horns. 

Dimitri gasped as he realized something, "I have to protect Constance and Gerdie, they can't run in those dresses."

"What was that, son?" Father asked, looking down at him with big eyes. His hand was still warm and calloused around his own, and Dimitri felt lots better realizing that his father could protect Gerdie just fine if one of the clan leaders started a fight. 

"Nothing father." Dimitri answered as he let his father start leading him out the room, "I was just wondering how we were going to protect Gerdie in that dress when the fighting started."

Father looked like he'd eaten something bad, like beets, which were gross no matter how ole Nan's chef friend made them. Because beets are bad and Dimitri hates them. He hates them more than anything. He even hates them as much as most people bears. He wondered if his father accidentally ate beets. "Don't worry Dimitri, Rufus made sure to arrange it so none of the rivals are next to each other. And I made sure to order them all on their best behavior."

The young prince stared at his father, and he wondered if he should warn father that Sylvain was never on his best behavior when someone told him to be. But then he remembered uncle Rufus helped him, and uncle Rufus was the scariest person Dimitri knew. Even scarier than Gustav, or the scary auntie that lives in the crypts, or Miklan, or goats.

_Especially the goats._

Dimitri was startled out of his thousand yard stare when his father took hold of his hand, bending over with his humongous body and giving him a smile.

"Are you ready? They're about to announce us."

He nodded at his father, already growing used to all the extra rules and dressing up they had to do. Though they didn't do it this much when all the regular nobles came, it seemed they were just being extra fancy for the newer ones. Dimitri had a feeling this was Uncle Rufus' idea - not because he liked showing off or anything, but because no one would be spending so much coin without his permission.

And no one wanted to talk to Uncle Rufus about money if they didn't have to.

His father gave his hand a little squeeze before leading him into the feast, the loud clamor of people talking and laughing greeting them.

"Entering!!! **His Royal Highness, Future Lord Sovereign of Faerghus, Future Thane of Fhirdiad and Itha, Grand Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd!!"**

Everyone stopped their talking to look at them, suddenly reminding Dimitri why they were all here and what they were all expecting. The prince gulped and found his stomach doing flips again - the queasiness only being soothed by his father's supportive hand. They walked towards their own special table up in the front where they could gaze at everyone while they ate. But of course, that made it able for them to all look up at them too, which didn't help Dimitri's stomach one bit.

"It's been a long day, I'm sure you're hungry." His father chuckled as he helped him into his chair.

Dimitri didn't have the energy to respond, only give a half-hearted nod while touching his tummy. He's never felt nervous with so many people in the room, but all the girls were looking at him and now he knew why and it was really weird.

His father raised his cup and stood, which meant everyone was supposed to stand, including Dimitri despite the queasiness of his stomach. His Father was giving words of thanks to the gathered Lord's and Ladies, a short speech before they began the feast in earnest. Then Dimitri could eat a little and then find his friends to play with, hopefully. Dimitri really wanted Felix and Glenn to meet Miss Byleth, maybe she'd give them stones too, and then they'd all have stones.

The queasiness in his stomach went away, and his father's speech was done, and by this point they were seated again and the feast began in earnest. It wasn't too long before some of the Noble son's and daughters began to run and around and play, and the adult began to enjoy themselves with...well whatever it is that adults did to pass the time.

"Father?" Dimitri asked, and Lambert looked away from his conversation partner, Lord Gwendal Rowe, of the Rowe Clan, Uncle Rufus always said never to trust him but Father insisted on politeness. The Lord was looking at him, staring at him really with a dark meaning behind his eyes, it didn't sit well with Dimitri.

"You may go," his Father coolly nodded his head, returning his attention to Lord Rowe, gently slipping away, Dimitri searched for his friends, spying Uncle Rodrigue close by, swiftly making his way to towards the Lord, dodging many a Lord and Lady who nearly caught him. Dimitri assumed the worst, surely they'd try and get him to promise himself to one of their daughters, and Dimitri knew, His Uncle and Aunty told him truthfully, that Dimitri was dreadfully honest and that he would do poorly in politics as he was now.

Dimitri finally made it to Uncle Rodrigue, when Rodrigue caught him as he was about to fall.

"Good evening Young Prince," Rodrigue greeted him, very formally, his blue eyes shifting to the adults around him, and leaned down to whisper,"If you are looking for Felix, Glenn has taken him into the West Garden."

Dimitri smiled at Rodrigue and ran off in the direction of the West Garden, when he peeked back he saw Uncle Rodrigue grimacing, and saying something to a red-haired man next to him. Maybe that was Sylvains dad, it sure looked like Sylvain.

Dimitri shook his head, that didn't matter, he could finally play with his friends freely!! He didn't have to worry about the feast, or the marriage situation, Dmitri was as free as could—

His train of thought stopped when he bumped into someone, falling back into the snow with an, _'Oomph!'_ Sitting up in the the Autumn snow, he rubbed his forehead, and looked up to see that he had bumped into miss Byleth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So A LOT happened in this chapter.
> 
> Dame Brunhilde is Ingrid's grannie, you know the one Sylvain flirted with? She's...nothing short of a badass, the most respected in the court. Gertrude is from Leicester relatives, and well...she's not made for Faerghus if you know what I mean.
> 
> Constance!! Listen, everybody who was anybody came to this Gala, and Constance didn't need to go into hiding atm so guess what binch, we plugged her in because we figured having the Ashen Wolves inserted somehow in a way that made sense was perfect, and Connie is very much on the Dimileth boat like everyone else.
> 
> Cornelia, so we headcanoned that the OG Cornelia was replaced by FE3H Proper Cornelia who we call Corn, so this is still the OG Cornelia who, while she isn't fond of children is still a doctor and knows how to at least deal with them to an extent. She feels responsible for a portion of Dimitri's upbringing which falls in line with the type of relationship they have which is for the benefit of the country. A notable difference between Cornelia and Corn is that Corn doesn't cover up her boobage or her thigh which in frozen faerghus...I'm not even gonna begin to describe the levels of unsafe that is.
> 
> Also, Dimitri good bean, safe bean adorable bean, only knows what a ladder climber is in context of his dad, he never imagined he'd ever be the ladder.
> 
> But yeah, as is obvious, the odds are stacked in Byleth's favor.


	6. Part 0-Local Child Tries To Give Epic Speech, Ends Up Hungry Instead

Byleth lived on a mountain top, so she's used to lots and lots of snow. Grandfather had special coats made for her for snowfall, but what she was wearing now as something nanny Bilbo made for her because she needed to be a proper lady for the party. She's not used to nicer clothes, despite being from a family with lots of money. Grandfather always said she needed to start wearing nicer stuff, though, if she wanted to express true majesty like him. So she was going to consider this her training.

So far the special dress coat was fluffy and warm, and even wit her laying in the snows after being knocked over she doesn't feel wet and cold at all. It was very nice, she thinks, and she doesn't know if this was the power of grandfather's majesty or her nanny's gentleman-ness, but she decides she likes it. With this conclusion in mind, she pushes herself up from the snow and sees who knocked her over.

"Oh." She pushes herself from snow and onto her feet, shaking the stray flakes from her sleeves, "It's you, my new friend."

Prince Dimitri, if she's remembering right, brightened at her words. He smiled, and scrambled to stand up as well, shaking the snow from his hair. He looked like a winter fairy when he did that, just like how Aunty Tauriel looks like an autumn fairy when she dances when leaves are falling. Byleth decides she likes this about him. "Lady Byleth! I was looking for you!"

That was good, Byleth decides. That means their friendship was going well. This is a very exciting development, her family was going to be so proud when she told them she made a friend all on her own. "Oh?"

"Yes." He nods, looking very happy, "I wanted you to meet my other friends so we could play swords together. Felix and Glenn really like swords. And Ingrid wants to be a knight when she grows up."

**More friends!**

This party was going very well.

Dimitri grabbed Byleth by the wrist and started to drag her forward. "Come on! Felix and Glenn are supposed to be in the west garden. Sylvain and Ingrid are probably nearby. We're usually all together."

"That's good! I met Ingrid and Sylvain earlier, when we were going to ride the horses, but then we had to go and meet you instead." Byleth tried not to sound too disappointed, because meeting Dimitri had been a good thing. But she had really wanted to ride the horses.

"Oh..." Dimitri looked thoughtful for a moment. "You were wearing riding clothes when we met." He turned and noticed for the first time that Byleth had changed clothes. She was in a dress now, but not one of the frilly, lacey things he had seen on most of the girls at dinner. This one was apparently sensibly made of fur and wool, in the same orange as her father's evening clothes. That must be their family's color.

"Um. I'm sorry you didn't get to ride the horses. It's probably too dark now, but my father said he was going to ask yours if you could stay tomorrow and play. Maybe we can ride them then?"

Excited, Byleth swung their arms as they walked. "I'll ask my Papa too. My nanny Bilbo says that he doesn't like people to know but Papa usually does whatever I ask him to."

Dimitri laughed as they rounded a hedge and saw Glenn and Felix sword fighting with broken sticks. "He sounds nice! My father is nice too. I bet they will be best friends."

Byleth observed the two boys, they looked a lot alike, were they brothers? They must be, what were they doing with the wooden sticks? 

Dimitri called out to the pair and they put their sticks down, the smaller boy had a big smile on his face and rushed over to Dmitri hugging him, laughing as he did so. The older one stood back, observing all three of them, Byleth noticed he stared at her and Dimitri's hands an awful long time before their eyes met.

The older boy stared at her and Byleth stared right back, Dimitri must have noticed because he separated from the smaller boy who hugged him.

"Felix, this is Miss Byleth!!" Dimitri introduced her to the small boy, Felix. Felix had dark hair and pretty amber eyes, they reminded Byleth of the sweet jams and tarts Bilbo would make in the spring when he got his hands on fruit. The small boy looked at her with awe and wonder in his eyes, she wondered why, before she realized she was forgetting her manner.

"Well met," she said, bowing her head slightly, the small boy grabbed her hand then.

"You're the sword Lady!!!" He shouted excitedly, Byleth nodded her head, oh this must be the friends that Dmitri mentioned before during the gala, the ones who liked welding swords. The older boy, the brother must be the one that taught Dimitri how to sword then...at least she hoped she was right.

"So you're the one he chose,"the older boy said, in lieu of a greeting, Byleth was grateful Bilbo was not here, for her Nanny would most certainly whack the boy with a ladle,"I am Glenn Victor Fraldarius, this is my younger brother Felix Hugo Fraldarius."

"Well met," she repeated bobbing her head,the older boy didn't have the same amber eyes like his little brother Felix, thankfully, Byleth knew which stones to give them. Digging through her pouch she gave Felix a golden amber stone and the older brother, whose rudeness most certainly did not warrant a stone but she'd do it because she was better than pettiness, received a light blue stone. 

Byleth was still upset she wasn't able to give Dimitri a stone like his eyes.

Felix, being a little nicer than his brother, took his stone and held in between his fingers with a quiet nod and a soft thanks that Byleth barely heard. He rolled it around between his fingers, staring at it with slightly widened eyes. His brother, on the other hand, carefully examined his own stone with a critical eye. "Hmmm."

"That's Glenn's way of saying thank you." Dimitri promised her, twisting his hands around one another. He was probably nervous about something. Maybe he was scared that Glenn wouldn't like her stone? She doesn't see why he wouldn't like her stone, he already took it. That's basically a confirmation of friendship, right? At the very least he hadn't thrown it back at her yet.

"What's your favorite kind of sword?" Felix asked shyly, kicking up some snow with the toe of his boot. He didn't actually look her in the eye while he was asking, too busy staring down at his feet, hands clutched over his gifted stone. "I like épée."

"Long swords." Byleth answered. She wasn't sure what an épée was, but she assumed it was some kind of sword she had never heard of. Her grandfather used a hadhafang that was uniquely shaped, and nanny used a short sword, and Mr. Dolf had a nice long-sword, and sometimes father would use a clay-more when it suited him. But those were all the swords she knew. 

It occurred to Byleth that she would have to expand her swordly education.

"I use a longsword." The older brother nodded approvingly, looking very satisfied with her answer. "I like the swing of them best. They're well balanced and the reach is usually good from my style."

"Yes." Byleth nodded, agreeing no because she knew Glenn's style, but because she liked long-swords for the same reason. Perhaps she could find common ground with Mr. Glenn after all, so long as he never met nanny and gave the poor gentleman "fainting spells" with his lack of manners. Grandfather would like him, though.

She wondered, for a moment, if grandfather would take Glenn in as a student of majesty. He had the right aloof rudeness for it.

Dimitri picked up one of the sticks the brothers had been playing with and swung it experimentally. "Now that we're here, what should we play?" 

"How about knights?" Glenn shrugged, and Byleth supposed Knights was their fall back game whenever they got together. "I'm going to be a knight, Felix can be a bandit. Dimitri will be the Prince."

He eyed Byleth up and down, apparently assessing her for knight or bandit-hood, but was interrupted by a whine coming from the small Fraldarius beside him. Felix crossed his arms in a huff. "I don't want to be a bandit! I want to be a knight too!"

Dimitri scratched his temple sheepishly. "And I'm always the Prince." Glenn rolled his eyes.

"Because you are the Prince."

Felix looked like he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Secretly, Byleth thought he was being a bit of a crybaby. Her papa had told her that sometimes it was better to just not say anything, though, and she thought that this might be one of those times. Felix was her friend now, after all.

Struck with an idea, Dimitri motioned toward the little boy. "How about Felix is a knight, and I'll be the Bandit Prince this time?" To prove he could do it, Dimitri squinted his eyes and showed his teeth to look mean as he waved his stick around menacingly. 

Byleth was still standing rather awkwardly to the side, unsure of what she should be. She brought her hand up to her cheek in thought. Maybe she could be a pirate, or one of the mountain folk, or a bear? But instead, her role was chosen for her as Dimitri turned and pointed the stick in her direction.

"And Byleth, you can be the Bandit Queen!"  
  
Glenn's eyebrows shot up to nearly his hairline, but he grinned and looked between Byleth and Dimitri. But Felix didn't look so sure.

"That means you two are the bad guys."

"That's right!" Dimitri shot his stick up and pointed it at Felix. "We're vicious, thieving bandits!" 

He turned to look at Byleth, though she was still adjusting to her role as she dug around in the snow to find a sufficiently pointy stick. "What kind of evil deeds would you have us do, my Queen?"

Byleth blinked, surprised he was asking her. "Oh um..."

She'd never played with other kids before, much less asked what she would do during playtime. Most of her days were spent exploring the mountain and it's mines while her family collected ore. Byleth got to watch their stages of weapon making and was even promised a chance to start making daggers soon.

Her father and grandfather took time out of their busy days to train her in all sorts of things; identifying pretty stones, learning values and bargaining with the old merchant who would come visit once every few months. How to hunt and live off the land in case their home was ever raided (by what, she wasn't sure), and how to use a sword and fight off people bigger then her.

Dinner was spent with family, everyone rowdy and singing and throwing stuff. Songs and stories were spent next to Grandfather Thorin's chair by the fire, and cleaning up was usually everyone running away before Bilbo would beat them with a broom ("I live with a bunch of primitive _, boorish- **Why was there a shoe in the chimney?!"**_ ).

But play time? Play time was when she was alone. When her family was off doing chores and Byleth didn't have much to do. There hadn't been any rules or major decisions - just wanderings and curious exploration. Pretend was spent as an adventure in new lands, swimming like a fish in the lake, or just acting like a lion and lay in the sun.

She'd never played a queen before.

Glenn took advantage of her hesitation and pointed his stick at Dimitri and her with a grin, "As if we'd let a pair of dumb bandits attack us!"

Then he rushed forward, surprising Byleth when he swung his stick down at her. She blocked just in time, but the look at Glenn's face told her he was just getting warmed up.

"Surrender to the kingdom and maybe you won't die!"

Okay, Byleth sorta knew what to do now, while she didn't know how to be a bandit, Bilbo often said that they were practically barbarians and bandits in the house, so that meant Grandfather and Papa were bandits too! 

_Maybe._

Pushing back against Glenn's stick Byleth kicked up some snow, and jumped back.

"Dmitri!!! Circle them!!" Byleth ordered, and Dimitri jumped but did ad she asked, circling around the opposite way. Glenn chased after her and Felix chased after Dimitri, they ran through the hedges, Dmitri and Felix having fun swinging their sticks at one another, looking more like...what did Nanny call it again?? Waffleing??? _Fanners??_ _Fencers??_

That didn't matter because Byleth dodged another strike from Glenn, swinging her own stick against Glenn's side before taking off.

"Hah, dirty tricks all you got?" Glenn shouted.

"Well I am a Bandit Queen," Byleth said thoughtfully, taking her eyes off Glenn to take note of the two newcomers Ingrid and Sylvain, her other friends...would they also be joining in.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent!" Byleth heard, just barely bringing her stick up to guard herself. That was no fair...but Byleth did suppose she shouldn't complain, she was a bandit Queen, as well as an Eisner.

"Hey!! You guys started without us!!"Sylvain shouted, sounding upset, Byleth couldn't take her eyes off of Glenn, she was beginning to struggle against his sticks weight.

"Too bad, you guys were late, pick a side, Knights or bandits," Glenn shouted, looking at the pair through his periphery, there!!

Byleth dropped, causing Glenn to lose his balance, as she swiped with her legs beneath him, he fell over her face first into the snow. She pointed her stick at his throat when he turned over.

"Your loss fair Knight," Byleth said proudly.

Glenn glared at her and smiled, that was a smile right," Yeah yeah, let's try again this time!! Bandits vs. Knights!!"

Dimitri ran over, pulling along Felix, Byleth idly wondered who won.

Smiling Dimitri stated proudly,"I will be a Bandit Prince again, is that alright with you 'Bandit Queen' Byleth?"

What a nice smile she thought, it reminded her of the ones Bilbo would give her, kind and warm.

"Sure, will Felix and Glenn be Knights again?" She asked, Felix let out a gasp and clung to his brothers arms, the older boy smiled down at his brother and nodded.

"I'm not gonna lose this time either," Glenn turned to Sylvain and Ingrid, who were in the middle of a match of rock, paper, scissors. 

Sylvain appeared to have won.

Ingrid pouted as she held her fisted hand, the rock which lost her the right to knighthood. But the blonde girl took her loss gracefully, moving to stand beside Byleth and Dimitri with her head held high, "I am Sir Ingrid, rouge knight."

"Sir Ingrid the cheater." Felix waved his stick, "You can't be a bandit and a knight."

"I'm an evil knight." Ingrid insisted, picking up a stick and giving it a test swing. Once she decided she liked it, she struck a pose that grandfather would have probably approved of as appropriately majestic and papa would have approved of as perfectly intimidating and Tauriel would have liked for being practical and nanny would have died over seeing it at all. "I have sword an oath to serve my queen, it so happens my queen is evil."

"Such loyalty!" Dimitri gasped, clutching his heart, "Ingrid is the best of knights!"

"Hey!" Glenn looked absolutely offended, "I'm the virtuous knight living by knightly ideals!"

"Knightly ideals are all sorts of things." Sylvain waved off, smiling at Ingrid, "You go Ingrid, you support that evil queen and all her evil, baby eating, evilness!"

Everyone looked towards Byleth, and it took a moment for her to realize that she needed to say something. Probably something about her evilness. So she thought real hard about what would make her turn to banditry. Uncle Dori said most people who steal do it because they're hungry, and bandits are mostly just over violent thieves. Byleth has never gone hungry before, but her grandfather has, back when bad king Maglor was going to starve her family out the mountain and surrounded it with soldiers until grandfather came out of the fortress and challenged him to a duel.

Motivation worked out, she straightened up, putting on her most practiced look of majesty she (her grandfather said she needed practice still, but she was getting there), and spoke with a speech (of which her grandfather said was always super important in order to properly motivate a crowd, and the best way to motivate a crowd was to fill them with righteous fury), "And what would this sir knight know of evil? Nay, I have been driven from my lands, and forced to survive these winters with no bread! And it was not honor that gave me bread! It was coin! Coin I was forced to steal! I ate no babes! Only bread! Bread which I'd been denied too long! If you will not give me bread, than I will take it and never go hungry again!"

She hoped that was grandfatherly enough.

Silence set in after Byleth gave her speech, while everyone took a moment to digest the words. She thought the knights in front of her looked suitably impressed, while the Bandit Prince beside her started to clap. Ingrid followed suit a moment later with a dramatic sniff. 

"I can't believe they kept you from eating bread."

Felix, aghast, struck the snow with his stick. "We would never keep you from eating bread. The Bandit Queen is lying!"

As one, the Bandit Queen's crew gasped. Dimitri stepped forward, pointing his stick at Felix. "You dare besmirch our Queen by calling her a liar?!"

Glenn knocked the stick away almost casually, "We do. We call her an evil liar who steals all the bread and keeps it for herself." He charged forward so that Dimitri had to step back to defend himself. With a yell, Felix and Sylvain jumped into the fray as well. Sylvain ducked under Ingrid's swing, apparently more interested in trying out Byleth's swordplay, while Felix turned around the redheaded boy to jab his stick at Ingrid. 

There was a lot of thunking of sticks, and kicked snow, and squeals of laughter or fright, when Byleth realized that her side was flagging. Sylvain pressed dangerously close, nearly throwing her into the snow. Everyone here was skilled. She imagined that, like her, their parents had been training them to fight since they were little. But Sylvain and Glenn in particular were older, bigger, and stronger. The knights had the advantage.  
  
There was a loud crack as the stick in Dimitri's hands broke in two as it connected with Glenn's. Glenn put up his arms to shield himself from the splinters and Byleth took the chance to grab Dimitri and Ingrid by the wrists and pull them away. "Run!"

They sprinted away towards the castle, a shocked yell echoing behind them as their enemies recovered and started to chase. Byleth ducked around around a corner and pushed the other two down behind a bush. Mist puffed out of their mouths as they caught there breath. It wasn't long before the Bandits heard rushing footsteps go past. 

Byleth heard Sylvain laugh. "So now it's hide and seek, and the loser gets thrown in the dungeon, yeah?"

Next to her, Ingrid squeaked. "I don't want to get thrown in the dungeon. It's wet and dark down there. What are we going to do?"

She was answered by a loud gurgle coming from Byleth's stomach. The other two looked at her quizzically.

"All that talk of bread has made me hungry."

Dimitri sat next to her, cross-legged in the snow. "I wonder, if we gave them bread would the bandits stop being bandits?"

Ingrid blinked at him. "Somehow, I don't think so your highness. I think they want all the bread, so we can't let them have it."

Dimitri only hummed in response. Byleth felt her control as the Bandit Queen slipping, so she knelt down next to her troops and put her hands on their shoulders. 

"We're bandits though, right?" The other two nodded in ascent. "Well, I'm hungry. So let's go steal some bread."

Ingrid looked unsure, but Dimitri, who was fully into the game, shouted his delight. He gasped and covered his mouth just as a little head of black hair poked it's way through the bushes.

It gasped, "I found them! I found the bandits!"

Ingrid squealed when Byleth took her and Dimitri's wrists and pushed through the brush, accidentally knocking little Felix over as they ran by. Luckily, there was a lot of snow, so he landed softly and didn't end up crying like Byleth thought he would. Too much snow, actually, making it hard for the boy to get upright thanks to his thick coat and turtle-like movements. That was when he started to wail.

"I-I'm sorry!" Dimitri gasped out as they ran through the first door they saw, startling the knight guarding it on the other side. 

"It's okay." Byleth replied while dropping their wrists, looking back and forth in the hallway as the guard stared at them with a curious gaze. "Which way do we go?"

Dimitri pointed, "That way is where the feast is."  
  
"Ah!" Ingrid, who'd gone to the window to peek outside, gasped. "They're coming! We're gonna go to the dungeons!!"

The knight guffawed at her statement, but the children ignored him in favor or running towards the dining hall. They had just made it through the main arch connecting a few rooms when the door leading inside barged open and the sounds of their enemies, the noble knights, spotted them. Ingrid squealed again, but there was a smile present on her face while Dimitri looked flushed and a little panicked. 

Byleth skidded to a halt as soon as they entered the dining area where all the adults were still sitting around and drinking and talking. A lot looked as flushed as Dimitri as they drank, while others were flapping their fans and sending glares at one another. The king was still up at his table, talking to a few other nobles and Byleth couldn't see where her father was.

"W-What do we do if they catch us?!"

She looked at her Bandit King and chuffed like the cat that lived in their barn. "We're gonna throw bread at them."

"Throw bread?!" Dimitri squawked, well...it was more like a shrill squeak, Byleth put her hand over his mouth to and shuffled both he and Ingrid along the wall. She didn't have many options for hiding places, there were the tables but for some reason the table cloths were raised from the floor. So they couldn't hide there.

Byleth cast her gaze around the feasting table, where the servants kept the appetizers and drinks for the adults. Yes, that would be a good hiding place!!

Making sure no one saw her, and hushing the guard to secrecy when he made to comment on them, Byleth dragged them behind the table, lifted the cloth and pushed the blondes in, Byleth grabbed a few rolls,and tarts and got under the table herself.

"Bandits," she whispered, showing off her quarry,"Tonight we eat bread!!"

The pair clapped quietly, whispering _yay_ , as they began to eat the bread and tarts, the cloth was suddenly lifted, causing the trio to choke on their food, mutual back pats and coughing followed.

"Whoops, sorry kids, guess you guys came to escape the dreary feast too huh," the perpetrator said, coming under the table and lying down on the floor across from them.

"Sir Christophe?" Dimitri asked, and Byleth did a double take, not too long after Christophe appeared Ashe had crawled in. This was great, this was amazing, almost all of Byleths friends were here, she couldn't wait to tell Grandfather and Bilbo about this.

"H-hello, Your Highneth," Ashe greeted, bowing carefully as he balanced a tray of juices,"Chrith look, I found the cider juithe!!"

"Nice job Ashe," Christophe praised Ashe, ruffling the boys head," Christophe offered them a glass,"Want some?"

"Oh, yes please,"Ingrid said, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of cider, she sipped from it slowly, her face content with the warm food and drink.

"Why are you hiding under the table?" Dimitri whispered, taking the offered glass from Ashe.

"That depends," Christophe answered, food still in his mouth,"Why are you guys hiding?"

"We're hiding from some Knights," Byleth said, wasn't it obvious they were being chased?

"Wait, Knights?!" Christophes stopped midchew to look at them.

Dimitri nodded his head,"Mhmm, Glenn, Felix and Sylvain are the Knights and we're the Bandits to Byleths Bandit Queen!!"

"Oh, oh thank goddess, I was worried," Christophe said, laughing quietly to himself,"I just came under here cause I was bored and Ashe wanted a snack that wasn't haggis."

"Haggith is icky," Ashe whispered,"Bread and tarts are better!!"

"Haggis isn't half bad y'know," Byleth said, after a moment, it wasn't her favorite food in the world, but she enjoyed haggis at the founding feast with all her Uncles and Aunts, and all her cousins who'd come to visit from far and wide to celebrate the Founding of Faerghus. It wasn't Grandfather's favorite either but he ate it all the same, and Byleth wanted to be like Grandfather so she supposed she should eat haggis.

Christophe nodded, patting her head, "Good, good, a worthy queen knows to partake in the local cuisine."

"That's right, she's the queen." Ingrid padded over, her face very serious as she poked Christophe with her stick, "And the Bandit Queen demands you hand over the bread!"

The older boy eyed her for a bit, throwing a look over to his little brother before suddenly gasping loudly, hand shooting over his heart and body falling to the ground. He closed his eyes, rolling to the side and laying very dramatically, "Oh no, I'm dead. I've been slain by foul bandits. Oh, how tragic, I've died too young."

"Chrishtoph!" The mousy Ashe cried, rushing to his brother and pulling his arm, "Shu're not dead! Get up!"

"Oh, to have been taken from this world too soon." Christophe threw his hand dramatically over his forehead, eyes pinched closes, "How cruel that I was but a victim of these cruel happenings. Ashe, it is up to you now. You must avenge me."

"Chishtoph! Wake up." Ashe shook his shoulder, "Dead peoples don't talk!"

"I'm a ghost." Christophe peeked one eye open and peering at Ingrid, "Only confronting my murderer can put my soul to rest. You must avenge me Ashe. You've gotta. So I don't end up in the Underworld."

"You didn't even give us bread!" Ingrid poked him with the stick again, "You died for nothing."

"The journey is not over!" Dimitri crawled forward, the search for bread still on even with blood now on their hands. "We've come to far now, we must find bread or Christophe will have died in vain."

Ingrid and Byleth crawled close after the Bandit Prince. A short ways away, Byleth turned back to look at the pale haired brothers. Ashe looked torn between the group and his brother still lying on the floor, but Christophe waved him away as he started to take off his jacket so he could stuff it under his head like a pillow. 

"Go on Ashe, can't you see I'm dead? Someone has to carry on the family name."

Ashe gave a jerky nod and followed after the group. As he caught up, Dimitri sat back on his haunches and looked at Ashe questioningly. "So if you're avenging your brother, does that mean that you're going to be a knight?"

Ashe's eyes lit so that his entire face was practically glowing. "Yeth! I've alwayth wanted to be a knight! I'm going to catch you murdering banditsth." 

He lunged forward, grabbing Ingrid's ankle and causing her to squeal. She pulled away as the others began to crawl as fast as they could. Ashe was the smallest of them, which was an advantage when crawling underneath dinner tables and over people's feet. There was some yelling as they accidentally bumped into the trestle legs and caused whatever was on top to shudder and spill.

As they came towards the end of one of the great tables, and prepared to dodge through the intervening space to the next one, however, a familiar boot appeared just before the cloth was raised and a thick hand snatched underneath and dragged Byleth out by her elbow.  
  
"Byleth! What are you doing?" Byleth's papa stared down at her, bewildered and maybe a little angry. He looked to the side back down the way they had come where two noble men, one with a great purple stain on his front, was pointing a finger at another and beginning to shout. He was distracted again when Byleth poked him in the belly with her stick.

"I'm the Bandit Queen and I've come to steal all your bread."

"Ah. Umm. _Oh no._ " He looked down at the others as they climbed out from under the table, dusty and wet from melted snow. As more loud voices joined the first few, and the sound of broken crockery started to fill the hall, Byleth's papa reached over to the top of the table and grabbed a bowl full of rolls, then added grapes and cheese for good measure. He handed the bowl to Byleth as he shot a somewhat concerned looking eye at Dimitri as he tried in vain to clean some of the dirt off of his coat.

"Please Bandit Queen, don't kill me. Here's the bread." He pushed her towards the back of the hall as a plate whistled over his head.

Before Byleth could get completely away though, she was stopped again by two hands on her shoulders as her papa leaned over close to her ear. "Try to stay out of trouble, or your nanny will tan us both."

"Yes, Papa." Byleth gave him a firm nod before raising the bowl of treats above her head, "We have bread and other treasures. We must hurry before the knights take it from us!"

Dimitri and Ingrid raised their hands with a cheer before they all quickly ran away the moment Ashe's puff of grey hair appeared from under the table.

"Drop that treathure!"

The three children (carefully) hurried past some adults who were drawing closer to the table they crawled under. Voices were growing louder despite them running away from the scene and Byleth was sure she heard a plate breaking. But that wasn't important right now. Ashe hot on their tails! Even though he had shorter legs, Byleth had to be more careful with their prize or else they'd lose more then just a single grape. Dimitri tried to help by taking her stick so she could carry the bowl with both hands, while Ingrid led them towards the wall of the room so they could avoid the more crowded parts.

"I'm gonna dthet you! You can't ethcape a knight!"

But the boy was tiring out and his body was wobbling a little while he huffed and puffed, but Ingrid, Dimitri and her were still able to run - probably thanks to a bit of training. Taking this chance, the group zig zagged around a few adults and had almost lost sight of Ashe, only for Ingrid to squeal and skid to a stop when Glenn appeared in front of them.

"Found you!"

Ingrid rushed to hide behind Byleth (her stick long lost), while Dimitri rushed to stand in front. He waved his might weapon at Glenn and tried to sound threatening despite his squeaks.  
  
"Step aside, or I'll stab you!"

Glenn laughed, twirling his own stick like an expert, "I didn't know bandits were so nice."

Dimitri tried growling again, but Byleth could only imagine lion cubs whenever they lost sight of their mother. She wasn't sure Dimitri was trying to sound like a baby lion, but she liked it. Byleth turned to look for an escape, but gasped when Ashe finally caught up and shouted for them to halt. Then Sylvain and Felix appeared, scurrying to block their only exit while they had their backs to the wall.

Glenn grinned, amused to know they were trapped before he rushed forward to attack, "In the name of the Kingdom!"

Sylvain and Felix cheered and came at them too, Ashe stumbling forward a second later. The three of them gasped and Dimitri tried to ward them off by swinging his stick in all directions. And just when they thought they were finally caught, the whole group jumped when a table was suddenly flipped over in another part of the dining hall.

_**"Wha urr ye cawin a gowk, ye silk lou'in worm?!"** _

Spying a familiar red beard, Byleth saw Lord Forrester, he was the only man she'd seen with the perfect grabbable beard like Great-Uncle Golins'!! 

" _Uh oh,_ "Dimitri said quietly, setting down his stick, his face worried,"There's gonna be a brawl now."

Brawl? Like the ones that broke out during the feasts back on the mountain, oh, then that meant Byleth needed to find a spot to watch it from.

"It's also between Lord Forrester and some Leicester Noble," Glenn whispered, there was more shouting and finger pointing, a cup thrown and plates shattered. The older boy picked Felix up, and grabbed Sylvain hand,"Guys, let's stop for now, we gotta leave before the real fighting starts."

Byleth was confused, it was just a little brawl, nothing too bad,"How come, it's just a small brawl, isn't this normal?"

Glenn nodded, but continued to slowly edge towards the entrance,"Yeah but...I haven't seen Lord Forrester this mad since...well he's never gotten this mad."

"Do you think," Ingrid whispered, clutching her stick close to her, her eyes were glimmering, frightened," _Do you think it'll get bad enough for a fued?_ "

"Well, they're not Faerghi, but, Forrester might claim one anyway," Glenn said, as they circled the wall. Byleth was curious though, what was said, that made Lord Forrester as red and mad as his hair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babies are cute and then shit starts getting serious on the uhh...Adult side of things.
> 
> Here we get hear more about Byleth's Uncles and Aunt, especially about her grandad Thorin and his ehhh "Majesty". If you know anything about Book Thorin it's that he's full of hot air and really just lying outta his ass. But Byleth is baby and wants to be as brave and majestic as Grandpa Thorin. The title is based of a joke our Admin made when they read they were writing the segment.
> 
> It was cute, and fun, unlike the next chapter.
> 
> It was all fun and games until the Adults started fighting.


	7. Part 0-Lyrics to a Howling Song

Jeralt was annoyed, so annoyed, God's he wish he'd remembered how boring these feasts were, then he could've just packed up and been gone by morning. Of course, then he remembered why he'd stayed in the first place, a decision he was coming to regret considering she'd just crawled on the floor and pointed a stick at him from beneath the table, demanding bread like some... _bread Bandit!!_

Bilbo was gonna murder him for the stains on her coat-dress, but...she did seem to be having fun, even if she was playing with the Crown Prince, whose friendship and association would get warped by the present parties in the room, not to mention all the jokes from their allied families. 

Jeralt could see the smug smile on Lord Gaspard's face. Literally, the man was tabled directly across from him, shooting him smug grins, damned Bard. As if the night couldn't get worse, there was already a fight breaking out between a Forrester and a Powell in the corner. Lord Rowe was talking to the King about something or other, probably trying to raise taxes on the common folk...again, judging by Rufus' face.

"This can't get more complicated can it?" Jeralt muttered to himself.

"Actually, it can," the Lord next to him said, Jeralt looked at the willowy man with bling and...was that purple in his locks, "Lord Nuvelle at your service my Lord, our daughters are acquainted with one another."

"Ah," Jeralt said, and who would that be, Jeralt should've asked her for more details, "Is that right?"

"Yes indeed sir," the man, Nuvelle, replied gesturing a fork over in the direction of the opposite table, "It seems there are those miffed by your daughter's newfound favor with the Prince, the Lord over there seems to have had enough of it."

Jeralt looked over, and his eyes grew wide, oh no, Lord Forrester himself, Jeralt hoped for their sakes, the visiting nobility would keep quiet, one brawl was enough, another and surely it'd be a free for all.

**"Wha urr ye cawin a gowk, he silk lou'in worm?!"**

Shit.

Lord Forrester had already upended the table, wasting food like that so easily, he must've been truly angry.

Jeralt left his seat and circled his way over, partly because well, his Father's Bard blood never left him and he wanted in on the details, but also, Lord Forrester was technically kin, so Jeralt felt obligated to stop potential murder, that is until Jeralt got close enough to hear what the Noble who'd earned Lord Forresters' ire said.

"I am merely speaking the truth, everyone here with sense in their brains knows that only a fool would marry into a house that comes in a gala in riding clothes!!!"

Wait.

Was that man talking about his little girl?

Jeralt grit his teeth. He knew that Byleth wearing those riding clothes hadn't been popular. Flames, he even knew some nobles and been sneering about it. But to be so blatant and open about it was disgusting. And where the fuck did this man get off talking about his kid like that?

But Geralt didn't get a chance to go over there and demand the noble face him, because Lord Forrester had already taken a meaty fist and decked him straight in the face, sending the man flying back on a nearby table and wasting more food, "Howfur dare ye blether aboot mah sister's fowk lik' that! _ye damned clatty prick!"_

"Oi!" Another lord, maybe a Gautier boy, stood up, face covered in mashed potatoes, "You're the only prick here Forrester! What kind of Faerghi wastes good food?"

"Come off it Miklan, I saw you slipping good meat to your dogs." A blonde, tanned, Charon stated from across the table from him. She stood up, balling her fist and shaking it at the downed noble, "Fuck you for talking shit about the royal family!"

"Hey! He did say shite about the royal family!" Another noble, a fucking Dominic, stood from the table, picking up his drinking horn and wielding it like a sword towards the downed noble, "How dare you, good sir! You've brought insult upon our good royal house!"

"How dare _I_?" The purple noble pushed himself up, corn falling from his hair and stew dripping from his chin. He stood angrily, face twisted into a deep scold. He flipped his arms, billowing out his ruffled sleeves, soup dripping from them as he pointed towards lord Forrester, "You barbarian. I demand this man's arrest!"

 **"Barbarian?!** Ah, will shaw ye barbarian!" Lord Forrester cried, enraged. The man picked up his chair and flung it as hard as he could, sending it flying at speeds even Jeralt's experienced eyes couldn't keep up with. Somehow, though, the noble managed to drop to the ground before it could hit him. 

Unfortunately, that meant the poor Gautier boy was hit instead. He went down like a long, and, indeed, his dogs surrounded him. The Charon flew from her own seat, rushing to his side, " _Miklan!_ Hang in there, buddy! I've got you!"

By that, she meant that she picked up her own chair and flung it as lord Forrester, "Get bent arsehole!"

But the chair didn't hit him, instead, the purple lord happened to have stood up just in time to be clocked by the chair. Unfortunately, this set off a chain reaction. The lord ended up knocked against an Adrestian woman, whose wine went flying into Lady Brunnhilde's hair and dripping down to her scarf, which was soon revealed to have been a sleeping ferret the whole time once it moved to avoid being splashed. This sent the same Adrestian woman squealing, and she knocked herself back into a servant, who went flying into Lord Rowe's back and knocking him against Lord Galatea's wife. She, too, reflexively punched the man, sending him into another Adrestian, who also fell against a noble.

It was all chaos from there as the ballroom descended into madness.

Jeralt saw a noble wearing an off-shoot of Fraldarius colors strike a noble before the large man could fall on top of his daughter. Another was hopping onto a table to run down to the other end just to launch herself into a crowd.

A war cry sounded from his left and Jeralt ducked in time to avoid getting hit in the head by a bowl of gravy. Brown liquid spilled everywhere and soon there were a few wives and their children slipping and sliding around the area. Little girls cried as the food was flung on their dresses, mothers scoffed then squealed when they were dragged into fights, and fathers flailed as they found themselves facing the people of Faerghus.

It was nostalgic, really.

The last time he'd been in a court fight had been in his earlier years, when the current king had been off on conquests and given the court a chance to continue tradition without bloodshed.

Though, from the look of the elder Gautier boy's broken nose, it didn't really matter if a tyrant was here or not.

_"Watch out!"_

Jeralt turned just in time to see Lord Lonato punch a noble covered in salad dressing, wide grin ever-present on his face while Christophe rushed around them.

"Perhaps if you visited court more often, you'd remember not to daydream in the middle of a brawl!"

Jeralt sneered, wondering if he should smack the smile off his friend's face. "Just a little rusty. I'm more worried about the kids."

The man nodded and gestured towards his son who was gathering up as many tiny bodies as he could before running out of the room. A lot of the children looked like monkeys, clinging to his arms and legs as he waddled to and from the entrance. At least someone was thinking straight.

Jeralt ducked down as someone nearly whapped him with a fan, a fan heavy enough, that Jeralt felt like he dodged an arrow, a very heavy arrow, turning to face the 'assailant' Jeralt was face to face with the oldest woman in the room, second to Old Nan. Jeralt sighed, dodged against, and threw a punch, knocking out...well looked to be a Powell judging by the colors. Whoops, well friendly brawl and all, they'd understand.

"Damn Brunhilde, "Jeralt greeted, watching her whack yet another foolish boy who tried to grab her skirt.

"Jeralt," she said, as she walked away through the madness, whacking those who dared close enough to her, Jeralt hoped Byelth was alright and not under one of the tables...none of which were on their legs, which meant one of two things, kicking another person out the way, either she was dodging and eating, or she was already outside. 

He should ask Christophe.

"Alright, that's the last of them,"Christophe said walking back, eyes searching the ground for any tiny bodies, "Although we really should be getting out there, I think one of the kids is starting a _fiiiiii—_ " 

Jeralt yanked the boy outta the way of a stray plate, tossing him in a direction as another member of Charon rammed their way through. Yikes, it'd be right around now—

**"Enough!!"**

Yep.

Silence filled the hall, as all eyes turned to the King, many a Lord and Lady of the Holy Kingdom flinched away from his gaze, few looked the King in his eyes, his facial features resembling Maglors' so much at this moment. Righteous fury in his gaze.

"I enjoy a good brawl now and again, but today was not the day for such foolishness Lord Forrester," Lambert said, thinly veiled anger spilling into his tone, Lord Forrester looked away for a moment, and stood straight, crossing his arms.

"Aye, Yer Majesty," Lord Forrester admitted, and the purple-haired Noble that started it all sneered at the man, but Lord Forrester was not done," However, ah hud th' honor I'm hearth 'n' hame tae defend, thus a'm feelin' na guilt ower mah actions."

Multiple whispers broke out, of how preposterous it was that he felt no guilt, bastards, like that purple-haired dick wasn't asking for it.

"Be that as it may, you did overturn the table, wasting precious food," the King said, "I expect full reimbursement to the cooks, maids, and butlers that will have to clean it."

"Aye, Yer Majesty," Lord Forrester bowed.

The purple Noble sputtered, "What? He punched me!!"

The King set his sights on the purple Noble, and it was shit like this that caused the tall tales of Blaiddyds to be as prolific as it was, and it was also moments like this, that made those who survived Maglor to sit up straighter and get ready to run. Blue eyes, pupils like slits maybe, and sharp teeth.

"Duke Gloucester," the King began slowly, stepping down from the high table, the only table to be safe from being tipped over, Lambert waded through the food, drinks, and sauces on the floor, and though parts of his cape were being stained, it didn't sleep to take away from the fear running through everyone in the room.

"Consider the fact that when you insulted Clan Eisner, you also insulted the Forresters' own who wed into the Clan," Lambert said, edging ever closer to the noble, "You have also insulted Lord Eisner himself, perhaps you've heard of him, he is after all the _Blade Breaker._ "

Whispers broke out once again, as eyes turned to Jeralt, as much as that helped Lambert avoid tying the engagement knot around their kids, he couldn't avoid the matter forever.

Jeralt hoped bringing up his former service in the name of the Church would stop here, and cow that Gloucester fellow.

"Not only that but, _apparently_ , you decided to insult my own family as well, seeing as the Blaiddyds have a long history." Lambert was basically towering over the man, glaring down his nose as he loomed. Jeralt almost felt bad for the man. _Almos_ t. Anyone who was caught facing down the destructive force that was the Blaiddyd clan earned at least some pity, or at least an empathetic wince of pain. Even to this day, he's not sure how in the name of the underworld his own father managed to survive Maglor, who was more like a walking demon than a man. It inspired some concern. But then Jeralt recalled that it was his little girl the man had insulted and whatever pity he had was gone.

Weird flex to bring up their shared history though, considering the most recent shared history was the fact that Jeralt's father killed a king through mysterious means. Bilbo, the only witness, almost told him how it happened once when he had a bit too much beer, but dad stopped him.

The noble, Gloucester apparently, shrank under Lambert's glare. But he sized up, jaw clenching as he moved to meet the glare straight on, "One would think, as King, you could control your court!"

Jeralt felt himself hiss at that. He thought Gloucester was a bit of a fool after the blatant and unsubtle insult, but damn. To question another ruler's reign to their face like that? While they're actively angry with you? And while you're in a room full of said ruler's loyal followers and in the heart of their capital? That was...a level of arrogance and confidence that would even make his father stop in astonishment. 

Others didn't seem to hold the same astonished admiration he did, though. He could feel the room going colder. Dame Brunnhilde snapped her fan open loudly, and he felt the wind howl in his ear as she started fanning her face. Lonato, the good man, looked disbelieving towards the confrontation, one knuckle cracking beneath his thumb at a time. Lyrics to the howling song.

"Well." Lambert spoke, leaning away from lord Gloucester, "How bold of the Lord of Gloucester to say such a thing to the face of his host after bringing insult into his halls."

"Insult would not need to be brought if proper decorum was met." The lord challenged, straightening with confidence at the perceived retreat. "It is clear to me now, that after the failures of the last king, you've yet to gain control of your court at all. Indeed, further proof of the failures of the monarchy."

Oh.

Oh shit.

If he thought the air was tense before, if he thought that Lambert was angry before, that was nothing compared to now. The way the King's face went bone white reminded Jeralt a little too much of a face he'd never like to think about again. And the following twisting anger reminded him more so. For a moment, Jeralt honestly thought Lambert would strike Gloucester down, and the Eisner man couldn't even really blame him if he did.

But he didn't. Instead, the tense noise was broken by the sound of the doors hall opening. Jeralt flinched, looking towards the towering entrance hall, and saw that the gaggle of babes, the flock of pretend bandits, were fleeing with arms full of bread, the little blonde-haired prince holding open the door as the young Galatea and Byleth fled with their spoils.

And maybe it was the sight of his son that calmed him down because Lambert seemed to lose all the fight in him. The anger didn't leave, no. But his body untensed, and his shoulders sagged as he backed away. The king looked away, towards his brother this time, "Rufus, I'd like to remove myself from Lord Gloucester."

Rufus brushed past his brother as Lambert retreated, still looking pale with anger. Jeralt was sure that Gloucester had no idea how close he had come to be a puddle on the floor, but whatever Rufus hissed at him a moment later appeared to have enlightened him to the danger.

"Now wait just a minute! _I demand-!_ " The stupid man turned and took a step towards His Majesty, and only then noticed the ring of rough, angry, men that surrounded him, ready to pounce at even one more idiotic word. Jeralt felt a small sense of pride as Gloucester's eyes swiveled through the crowd and landed on him, that he was counted among them. Lambert himself turned back only once more, but only to give his brother a terse nod towards the hall doors. A motion to get the man out before he did any more damage.

Jeralt wasn't close enough to hear everything that was said, only a sentences words hushed with anger as Gloucester was herded out the back hall doors with Rufus and a few guards "It's no wonder the Reigan family controls Leicester if their next best diplomat openly insults a King in his own halls. Now if you wish to leave this place walking on your own two legs, I suggest that you silently follow me to my office, where we are going to discuss the new import tax on Gloucester teas."   
  
Once the troublesome Lord was out the door, the whole room seemed to relax. People started moving to the right tables and pick up trays that had been spread all around the hall during the fray. King Lambert quietly moved up next to him and sighed as he rubbed the tension out of his neck. "I am sorry that this happened. He is right in some ways, that I let it get this out of hand. But he should not have slighted you or your daughter, so he still deserved what he got and more."

Jeralt just shook his head. "You know how it is, Your Majesty, with all of us together and the ale flowing. Forget me, the Eisners aren't so soft as to get hurt over the words of some dandy from the low country. He shouldn't have said what he did about you at all, but especially not here. Stopping this fight would have been like stopping the sun from rising. I'm just glad none of the kids were involved." Jeralt sighed at the hang-dog look on Lambert's face and decided to throw him a bone. "For what it's worth, the rest of us think you're a good King. But I think you know that already."

The King's face brightened at the words from his old knight, and he motioned Jeralt towards the front doors. "Speaking of the children, we should probably check on them. And I've been wanting to speak to you, on behalf of my son."

Shit. There it was. The talk he'd been dreading most, the one he knew he was going to get if the prince continued to show favor towards his daughter. But...maybe he was paranoid? Yes, the boy had been eager to talk to Byleth, but that didn't mean anything. His daughter was here to make friends and experience the world of politics (hopefully be scared away from them too), not wed the Crown Prince of the country!

Hopefully, this _"talk"_ wasn't what he thinks it was and this was just the king assuring him that the two would be friends and nothing more.

Jeralt scratched the back of his neck, noting the unwanted goosebumps growing there. "Yeah, most of 'em are probably confused."

He felt bad for the kids from the other countries who had no experience in Faerghi court - perhaps it would be their last visit here.

The King grinned, though Jeralt could see the slight tick in his jaw from this forceful action. His gut told him to take it as a sign of how nervous Lambert was, but he'd rather ignore that for now. "Excellent. I dare say, I think there's been enough fun for one day..."  
  
Jeralt grunted in agreement then endured the nervous King's babble as they made their way outside the dining hall. Lambert asked of weather and how the mountain was treating them while Jeralt answered back in a series of shrugs and grunts. The King wasn't deterred (or perhaps his anxiety was growing?) as he continued on, hoping to fill the silence that Jeralt felt no need to correct.

Maybe he was getting a little enjoyment out of this? No one could dare say they had such a powerful man nervous before them, possibly open to bargaining that would make any greedy man salivate at the thought of ungodly riches and power.

Lambert was lucky he wasn't that kind of person, or his kindness would be taken advantage of.

"Ah!" The King sighed with relief at the sight of the children, most of the others off in groups as they ran around in the ballroom. Some were play dancing and giggling, but Byleth and her new gaggle of friends were sitting on the stairs, enjoying their treasured bread. "It seems that they're all right."

Jeralt squinted his eyes, noting his daughter was sharing her bread with the blond prince. "Yeah...great."

The King followed his gaze, and sighed, "Dimitri is a very...very simple child, he heard swords and simply latched onto it."

Jeralt glanced at the King, and grunted, "Well, we do teach em to fight before they can spell their own names."

Lambert hummed, "That is true, you see Jeralt Dimitris' friends are doubtless made from my own alliances, Dimitri himself has kept up with them but...there is the barrier of Liege and Subject going on between them all."

Jeralt thought that would've been obvious, kids were perceptive that way, no matter how close they were now, the looking future where they would fight and work side by side but at the neck and call of one of their friends? If it wasn't a problem now it most certainly would be later. Statuses like that and decorum were hard to break.

"So you can understand how happy and excited he was that he'd made three on his own," Lambert continued, watching a girl in a gaudy dress latch onto Dimitris' arm, his son surprised, whipping to face her, "Not to mention, I have a feeling only two of them have any hopes for a true friendship."

Jeralt watched as Dimitri fed the purple-haired girl a grape, he didn't know how to feel about that but he felt for the poor kid, "Your son doesn't know what the gala was for does he."

Lambert shook his head, "No, or rather he did not at the start, but a talk with his friends cleared that up...he was rather petrified at the prospect that his new friends were looking at him as marriage material rather than companions."

Jeralt harrumphed, "Well he doesn't have to worry about that with Byleth, lass didn't even know what the gala was for."

Lambert made a sound, his face filled with horror, " _Sir Jeralt please don't tell her._ "

Jeralt opened his mouth, shocked, " _What?_ I wasn't going to tell her at all!! As far as I'm concerned she came to make friends, and she did I just...I just wish she hadn't with you son, if only because of the rumors that will surely follow."

Lambert nodded, spying Byleth handing Dimitri some cheese, which he ate from her hand, "Aye, that's true, although if it was considered, I would've approached you long before this."

Jeralt raised a brow, watching the purple-haired girl fume, "Can I take it you would've scaled the Mother Mountain?"

Lambert laughed, watching the foreign Bard approach the children lute in hand, gathering them all to lift their spirits, "A most embarrassing attempt would've been made but yes... truthfully I do not wish them to be wed let alone engaged if only because of the dishonor my father had done to yours."

Jeralt mulled over the young King's words, watching his shoulder sag as Maglor was brought up once again, the ' **Mad King'** Maglor, Faerghus' endless nightmare until the King had come to Mount Gwenhwyer to bring the Eisners to a heel or to their death. It was a bloody stain on their history, Clan Blaiddyds most of all, so many had called to question Clan Blaiddyd's suitability to rule. A question that was answered due to Lambert's own charm, kindness, and genuine love for his land. Not to mention, no one wanted to assume the authority of Faerghus, not after the mess Maglor left.

Jeralt placed a hand on Lambert's head," Yer not your Da, your Da wouldn't have held back, children be damned, besides, it's not our fault Leicester forgot about our brawls."

Lambert was stunned, and then a grin broke out on his face, "Thank you Sir Jeralt but I believe it is considering a crime to lay a hand on your Sovereign."

"Cheeky bastard," Jeralt bit out, this was the thanks he got for being nice.

The King only smiled and looked away, his eyes landing on the kids again, watching them as they obliviously shared their bread, a mini-war over the snack still brewing between them all. It was like the brawl never even happened for them, so absorbed in their own game had they been they all probably just treated it as part of the adventure. And though there were several more children surrounding them, including a lot of weeping girls with ruined dresses, it didn't stop them from innocently holding on to their loaves. And a block of cheese, going by the snack in the prince's hand. Sneaky little bastard. 

Although it was hard to keep thinking he was a little sneak when he offered it to one of the crying little girls, who took it with a sniffle and munched on it, quieting her sobs even if she didn't quite stop crying altogether. Poor thing. Mousy little gal looked like she didn't even want to be here.

"Your kid is gonna be fine." Jeralt comforted, watching the whole thing play out, "...if nothing else, Byleth seems to like him. I'm not sure she'll, y' know, marry him. But...I'm sure she's stubborn enough to want to keep being his friend."

"That's...comforting," Lambert admitted, letting out a long, defeated, sigh. "I worry. Faerghus is a lot to handle, especially alone. I had Rufus, but I'm afraid I was never able to give Dimitri siblings."  
The King said that with such wistfulness that Jeralt felt his own damned heart twist with empathy. Damn it all, where the flames did Lambert get off hitting so close to home? Didn't he know Jeralt lost his wife in childbirth? Had lost a little boy too, but he couldn't bear to think of that. Probably not, but that wistful tone, that longing gaze, it hits hard. The Queen consort may not have died in labor, but she hadn't lasted long at all after. He and Lambert were practically in the same damned boat, if not riding side by side in similar ships. 

Fuck.

"It'll be fine." Jeralt pats him again, empathy burning his throat like whiskey going down, "You'll see. If nothing else, their friendship shows that old wounds heal."

Jeralt felt the other man's sigh in his soul, but a moment later the king rallied. Jeralt had to hand it to the man, despite it all bounced back rather quickly. He supposed that was simply something Lambert had had to learn to do to become a good king once Maglor was gone. Lambert gestured toward where their children sat on the steps. The girl in the frilly dress was leaning into the prince and talking to Byleth in a way that had Byleth tilting her head in what Jeralt recognized as confusion. Behind them, Prince Dimitri's friends were standing straight and staring a the frilly girl in shock. The mousey girl had retreated to sit behind a potted plant with her cheese.

"That brings me to the question I had wanted to ask you." Jeralt whipped his attention back to the king. He had thought the discussion about their children ending up together was over. "My son has requested that your daughter and the rest of his friends to stay tomorrow so that they may be free to play together. I told him I'd be happy to host you another day."

Jeralt sagged. He didn't want to stay, but he knew what Byleth would say if he asked her opinion. "It's true that despite it all, Byleth didn't get to ride the horses today like she wanted. She'll be beyond excited at your offer." He looked sidelong at the King as the bard Dandelion appeared out of nowhere playing a jaunty dancing tune so that the children in the ballroom all started bounding around with all the energy of youth. The girl in frills pulled Dimitri to his feet to join in, and he, in turn, held out his hand for Byleth to join them.

"But you know what might happen if we encourage their relationship."

One side of Lambert's mouth pulled back in a grimace. "Whatever happens, happens. I have no intention of announcing anything for some time, but beyond anything I want my son to be happy. At least I can count on your daughter to be sensible."

"Yeah," Jeralt let out an exhausted sigh; watching as the frilled girl forced the prince onto the dance floor before Byleth could react. "Sensible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck Gloucesterm just fuck him, I'm telling you right now that if you've ever read a fic that's since been on hiatus, Gloucester is related to Fraldarius and since Gertrude also Galatea, albeit distantly, but close enough that Lorenz has to attend family reunions. Lorenz learns from this display of his father's ineptitude that you should really be aware of your place during functions at all times.
> 
> Lambert, poor poor, Lambert, we mentioned Maglor sparingly here but we'll continue to as we go, but he really is the absolute worst. Maglor was a tyrant, turned mad by what he saw on a pilgrimage, that warped their beloved King into the man that is only remembered by the blood he shed. Not to mention his wife....which we will get into another day.
> 
> Now the mousy girl...it's Bernadetta, she didn't wanna be there and she's scared of all the fighting, and she's just...eating her bread.


	8. Part 0-The Bandit Queen

Dimitri felt guilty for leaving Byleth by the stairs, especially after they formed a warriors bond over bread and cheese. He really liked cheese and Byleth had been so generous to give him the whole block (which was only fair that he gave it to the crying girl and her ruined dress), but now he left her behind after she shared the most delicious-est snack of all with him.

He couldn't help himself each time the staircase came into view, Gertrude holding his hand tight and making him twirl and twirl while he tried to see what the others were doing. Dimitri wasn't a bad dancer, honest, but being distracted only made him step on the poor girl's toes and her his when he was too slow or fast for her. She grimaced but didn't say anything as she went on with her story.

"-And then my pony jumped over the haystack! I was so scared!"

"Uh, Gertrude...?"

The girl blinked her eyes at him again, making him wonder if she really wasn't sick if she was still doing that. But she was also smiling, so it must not hurt.

"Yes, my prince?"

Dimitri's stomach felt like it was being turned upside down again and he was suddenly remembering the new term he had learned that day.

_Ladder climber._

"U-Um, maybe we should go back for Byleth? We didn't give her a chance to-"

Suddenly, the girl's cheeks puffed up and her eyes squinted and Dimitri was worried she really was sick. Maybe she was allergic to grapes? That would explain the swelling in her cheeks. Come to think of it, Felix had the same problem...

"You're dancing with me! Not her!"

The girl stomped her feet at this, pausing their dance as other children ran and moved around them.

"Oh, but, if we all dance together..."  
  
Dandelion's tune was getting a little faster the same time Gertrude's face grew redder and her cheeks puffier and- "Are you okay?"

"W-What? W-What do you mean?!"

Dimitri frowned and pointed at her face, "Your cheeks are swelling and they're really red."

The girl's eyes widened while her hands slapped against her own cheeks with a loud **SMACK**. Dimitri gasped in shock when she suddenly screamed to be excused before running away. He stared after her, suddenly feeling guilty for pointing out her condition. Perhaps he'd been impolite?

"What happened?"

Dimitri blinked and noticed Byleth walking up to him, her face the same strange blankness, but there was a tiny bit of worry in her voice. "I think I made her mad...."

"Oh..."

The prince frowned, fiddling with the hem of his shirt before taking Byleth's wrist and tugging her into a dance. "I'll say sorry later. It's your turn to dance."

"Okay."

Dimitri was happy she didn't protest and got into the stance his teacher had taught him before he hesitated in taking her hand. He remembered the queasiness in his tummy and how he was told about ladders and how Gertrude was acting around him...

"Byleth, w-why did you come to the party?"

She tilted her head, confused. "I was invited."

Dimitri's face turned a deep red, "O-Oh I mean...W-Why did you choose to come?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was hoping it wasn't the same reason as everyone else. That his friends were right and that Byleth just wanted to have fun. It came as a relief when she took hold of his lingering hand and began to dance with him.

"Papa said I could make friends here. I've never had any before."

"Oh," Dimitri felt his queasiness go away and he brightened. "Oh!"

That was great, Dimitri didn't know what he would do if Byleth was also a ladder climber like Gertrude, although Dimitri did feel bad for making her mad. Hang on, Byleth had never had friends before? Not even ones like meeting your Uncle's kids? 

"You've...never had friends?" Dimitri asked as he led her into a twirl, it was a hot difficult since she was a little taller than him.

"No, "Byleth shook her head, stepping in time with him, "Everyone is a grown-up on the Mountain, and their kids are grown up too, even if they act like kids." 

That sounds lonely, Dimitri thought, and he understood why she was so excited at friends that she'd probably not even heard about the whole candidate thing. But no kids? No friends? Did she just...play by herself all day? Dimitri understood the feeling, even if he had all these friends, they lived far away from him, so they didn't get to play as often, so Dimitri was usually by himself.

Snowflake was around but Snowflake liked staying by Nan's side all day, and he was getting old so he couldn't play with Dimitri any more.

Dimitri supposed he was pretty lonely too.

"It gets...lonely at the Castle sometimes too, my friends don't live close so I don't get to play with them often," Dimitri admitted, he spun Byleth around, as the music began to pick up the pace, "What do you do on the mountain?"

Byleth thought to herself for a minute, and Dmitri watched her as she flawlessly completed several turns with him, while thinking about something else.

"Usually I help with chores, gathering stones in the mine, or fruit from the fields, sometimes Bilbo will let me cook with him, "Byleth answered.

"Bilbo?" Dimitri asked.

Byleth nodded and her eyes started to sparkle, "Nanny Bilbo, he takes care of the house, he can cook, clean, write stories and he helped make my coat?!"

Nanny Bilbo sounded a lot like Nan, maybe if they met they could be friends too?

"Bilbo sounds like a very nice person," Dimitri said, as the music picked up in speed once more, they turned swiftly several times, evading other children.

"Nanny Bilbo is the best," Byleth said, pride in her voice, Dimitri giggled, then he thought about it if Bilbo was like Nan maybe...

"Did Bilbo tell you to give out your pretty stones?" Dmitri asked.

Byleth nodded, "Bilbo says there's nothing like song, food, and a nice housewarming gift that warms the way to the heart."

"Oh, that's very smart of Mr.Bilbo!!"

"Bilbo is the bestest!!"

"Hehe, he sounds like Nan!!"

"Who's Nan?"

"Well..." Dimitri hadn't realized how much time they'd spent talking because suddenly his Father was picking him up surprising he and Byleth, "Father!! Put me down!!... **Please!!** "

His father laughed at him, and set him down, Dimitri mustered the best glare that he could, but his father laughed at him again. His father's eyes were tired and his shoulders were heavy.

"Father...are you okay?"

"I'm okay son...just a little tired." His father pat his head with big, callused, hands. He did that thing where he ruffled Dimitri's hair, which the prince super secretly loved but would never say so because Glenn said only dogs and horses liked head pats and he wasn't either. "It's just passed my bedtime."

Oh no!

Dimitri supposes it is pretty late. His own bedtime was normally only an hour or two after it got dark, around the twentieth hour. But today was special, so he was allowed to stay up late. He doesn't know how late it is, exactly, but he wasn't tired at all. What time are father bedtimes anyway? "But I'm not tired!"

"Come on, it's been a long day, and I'm sure old nan is looking for us." Father winked at him, hand leaving his head and gently pushing his upper back, "Let's go, or else I'll carry you the whole way."

"But I wanna play with my friends!" Dimitri cried at the injustice. He hadn't even found Constance yet! What if she's sad because she hadn't gotten to play with them? "Please? Just for a little bit?"

"Your friends will be here in the morning," Father stated kindly, pushing him a little bit again. "Say goodnight to them and then let's go find ole nan. The party is over."

_Injustice._

Feeling a little cheated, Dimitri turned to Byleth, who seemed to be in a similar position of sheer injustice. Curse bedtimes. When he was king he'd never sleep at bedtime again! "We gotta say goodnight to the others Byleth, else Felix will be sad."

"Yes." Byleth looked from her papa, nodding in agreement because she's smart.

Dimitri took Byleth's hand and pulled her towards where their group of friends was standing. He looked back to where his father and Byleth's papa stood watching them go. His father really did look tired, and Byleth's papa was pinching his nose like Uncle Rufus did sometimes when he had a headache. Maybe they should have taken a nap this afternoon during the break, and then they wouldn't be so sleepy and everyone could have stayed up longer to play.

More parents were filtering into the ballroom, and Dimitri recognized a few of them as they met up. He gave a small bow to Lord Rodrigue and Margrave Gautier who were standing in a small crowd with their sons. After watching him for a moment, Byleth dropped into a somewhat clumsy curtsy. Lord Rodrigue smiled at them, and the Margrave frowned. Dimitri noticed he had a small bruise forming under one eye and wondered if that was why he was so grumpy this time.

"How kind of the Lord and Lady of the castle to bid us good- _ **Oof!**_ " Margrave Gautier recoiled from Lord Rodrigue's elbow digging into his side.

" _Hush,_ **Gautier** _, unless you want another bruise._ " Rodrigue turned to look down at Dimitri with a smile. Dimitri smiled back. Lord Rodrigue was almost like another, much less mean, uncle. He wished he was around as much as Uncle Rufus was. Then Glenn and Felix could be around all the time too. 

"Would you introduce us to your friend, Prince Dimitri?" Rodrigue waved a hand in Byleth's direction. Oh! Dimitri realized he was being rude as he pulled Byleth forward.  
  
"This is my new friend, Lady Byleth Eisner. We've come to say good night to everyone because it's bedtime." Byleth nodded, though Dimitri didn't know whether she was being shy or whether she just didn't know what to say.

Felix pulled on his father's hand, and Rodrigue looked down at him with a grin. "That's the girl we told you about, Da. The Bandit Queen!"

"Oh! Yes, the Bandit Queen. I've heard all about your exploits, Miss Byleth. Apparently it's thanks to you my children didn't starve, even though they were the knights giving you chase. How kind of you."

"Alright, that's enough." Margrave Gautier snorted and pushed his sons forward. "Say goodnight, boys."

Sylvain came forward with a bow and a wink for Byleth, while his brother Miklan only nodded his head. Both of them said goodnight while Rodrigue looked quizzically at the redheaded lord. "Does that mean you three aren't staying tomorrow?"

Staying? Dimitri's attention was peaked, and Sylvain turned around to stare at his father with puppy eyes. Dimitri was sure they didn't work, though, because the Margrave only sneered. 

"I've got work to do and need to get back to my lands. I'm surprised you're not doing the same, Rodrigue."

"It is by King Lambert's request. At the very least, leave Sylvain here and he can travel back with us."

"Deal. Sylvain, you can stay." The little boy gave a cheer and looked back at Dimitri and Byleth with sparkling eyes. Dimitri, too, was excited and now he wanted to get to bed sooner just so tomorrow and more playtime could come. 

Rodrigue nodded and then turned back to Dimitri to give a small bow. "Good night, Prince Dimitri. We will all see you in the morning." And then he turned and ushered his boys away just as Ingrid and her grandmother Brunnhilde stepped into their places.

"Lady Galatea," Dimitri bowed at them both while the older woman gave a little curtsy in return.

Ingrid chose to bow, more so to Byleth then Dimitri, "My Queen!"

Lady Brunnhilde shot Ingrid a glance while pulling out her fan to hide the lower half of her face. She was the only woman in Faerghus court that actually used one of those and Dimitri could kick himself for not asking her about it earlier. If he'd known what all that fluttering and snapping meant, maybe he would have been able to make more friends.

Byleth bowed back, "Lady Galatea, Lady Ingrid."

The blonde girl couldn't seem to hold it in any longer as a huge grin appeared on her face. Then she took hold of Byleth's free hand and held tight. Dimitri hadn't seen the girl this excited since she got to pet a pegasus for the second time.

"We'll get to play again soon, right? Are you staying for the night?"

"Papa says we can come back tomorrow."

Ingrid beamed, but then quickly rushed back to her Grandmother's side when she gave the girl a sharp look. The blonde whispered an apology to Brunnhilde but merely received a pat on the head before turning her attention back to Dimitri and Byleth.

"Your highness, I see you have a better eye than most."

He tilted his head, confused.

Brunnhilde smiled at Byleth and shut her fan, "Lady Eisner. It's quite a sight to see you and your kin off the mountain."

Byleth nodded hesitantly, "This is my first time."

The older woman's eyes got crinkly and Dimitri wondered what she was thinking. "A most _opportune_ time."

Was she talking about how it was the best time to make friends? Dimitri hoped so, and was reminded for the alternative reason to this whole gala, he really hoped Constance wasn't the same, he really liked Constance too!!

"Ingrid will be here in the morning, right Lady Galatea?" Dimitri asked shyly, Brunhilde snapped her fan shut and smiled.

"But of course, I very well cannot pass up a chance to bother your Uncle now can I?" She responded laughing to herself, Dimitri didn't understand it but he was sure Uncle Rufus was Lady Galatea were friends...Uncle Rufus just refused to call her that.

"We wish you a good night, and enjoy your stay!!" Dimitri bowed, Byleth bowing after him, as they continued to bid their guests goodnight, some of them took to glaring and staring at Byleth, and Dimitri didn't understand why, but that didn't matter, Byleth was his friend and if they were rude to her he would defend her!! 

"Look, "Byleth said, stopping Dimitri in his tracks, she was pointing to Count Nuvelle, who was talking with Byleths' Father and Dmitris' own, "It's Connie."

Before Dimitri knew it he was being pulled along towards them, while the adults took notice of them Constance did not, or rather she seemed not to until have turned around just as Byleth was about to poke her.

"Good evening Your Highness, Lady Byleth," Constance curtsied, still holding her fan before her face, just like when they first met.

"Hi Connie, "Byleth began, "Dimitri said we should say good night to everyone...will you still be here tomorrow?"

Constance hummed and looked to her Father for an answer, the Count was considering the idea, "We may need to, I still have some business in the city, after all, does his Majesty object to Constance's presence tomorrow?"

"Of course not. You and your daughter are more than welcome." Dimitri's father gave the smiled at the Count, and it looked like maybe he wasn't so tired after all. At least he appeared to be happy that so many people were staying. Dimitri wondered if his father wanted to make some new friends too. He took hold of his father's hand and was happy when he was given a little squeeze of acknowledgment.

"Excellent. I hope you'll consent to have lunch with me tomorrow, Lord Eisner. I have some matters of business I'd like to discuss with you."

Byleth's father grunted in response. "If I had known I would be the belle of the ball I would have stayed on the mountain." Dimitri's father and Count Nuvelle snorted with laughter.

"Don't be like that sir. What I have to propose will be good for both of our families, I assure you."

Dimitri was distracted from the adult's conversation by a light tap on his shoulder. He turned back to look at Constance, who was pulling back her fan to lay it against her cheek. "What do you wish to do tomorrow now that I am staying, my dear little Prince?"

Dimitri hadn't thought that far ahead and was about to say so when the answer piped up next to him out of Byleth. "Horseback riding."

"Of course! You didn't get to go riding today. Let's do that. It will be fun!" Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Hohohoho." Constance laughed. "Riding? Of course! I am a masterful rider. I will show you what a daughter of House Nuvelle can do."

"Then it's settled." Happy to have made plans, Dimitri nodded to the others. The adults seemed to be wrapping up their conversation, so he turned to Byleth. "Then I guess this means Good Night. I'll see you in the morning. We're going to have a lot of fun together, I swear it!"

Byleth's father stepped up beside her and took her hand. She looked up at him, then down again at Dimitri before giving him one of her clumsy curtsies. "Good night Dimitri, I'm looking forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snowflake is the Blaiddyd Family dog from Lambert's youth, he's very old and can't keep up with Baby!Mitri anymore, so now he opts to spend his time taking it easy like Nan.
> 
> As you can see, some family heads have conceded defeat and some see that Byleth is a prime candidate for Queen, and some see that they're children and that we should behave Gautier. In other news, Dimitri is very happy to have made some new friends, and we assure you, Constance is not in the running, Nuvelle isn't interested in mixing bloodlines too far from their own.
> 
> And Bernadetta, with hope, may make an appearance again in the future, maybe, like a one-off.
> 
> -Val


	9. Part .25- They're Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing last week!! I'm on time this week, see!!

Jeralt knew he should have written a letter to his father the moment they got back to their lodgings. He should have warned the Eisner head and demand political advice from Kili's kid - because he always seemed good at these things. 

But he didn't, because the letter would get there too late and be pointless.

He wanted to run away in the middle of the night when his daughter asked him for bedtime stories. Ones that had to do with a certain royal family and not the rough and tumble tales of her own kin. Instead, he held back his displeasure as he shared with her the story of Pan and King Loog (because damned if he wasn't going to be sure there was one of theirs in the story).

Jeralt almost wished Byleth wasn't so full of energy when they made their way back up to the castle the next morning. He wished that bare hint of a smile wasn't present when he guiltily thought of escape plans in case things went south. Just stepping through the castle doors was enough to make Jeralt blanche, not just because of the pristine white stone (no grubby, little coal fingerprints), or the many guards and staff that scampered these halls (how did they remember all their names?), but also because of how interested Byleth seemed to be in it all.

Now that she knew someone who lived here, everything was interesting. The statues, the paintings, the tapestries, and _'Where are all the weapon piles, Papa? What if the dire wolves try to break in?'_ and gods it was just too much. He couldn't very well ignore her questions, so Jeralt did the best he could from what he could remember back during his school days.

The poor, haggard father couldn't stop his heart from squeezing painfully when his daughter dropped his hand the moment she saw the prince. Jeralt couldn't stop the depression that hung over him like a gloomy cloud when Byleth ran towards her new friend, as if they had been parted for years instead of just a night.  
  
He wished he could whisk her away and explain why this was a bad idea. Encourage her to spend more time with little Ashe or to even stay put on the mountain forever if only to avoid falling into the marriage trap. Worse, with a Blaiddyd.

Yes, they could just stay friends. Yes, they could grow up to see each other as brother and sister more than potential life partners. But they could also fall in love and get married and Byleth would be forced to be _Queen_ and the poor girl refused to wear laced boots because she still had trouble tying her shoes- _how would she be able to run a country?_

Jeralt wanted to scoop her up and run when the prince smiled at her. He wanted to scale the tall, white walls when they took each other's hands and scurried into the stable where the others were waiting. He wanted someone to put him out of his misery when the King walked up to him, just as pale and nervous as he when Lambert invited him to their discussion.

He almost left the room when he realized Rufus Blaiddyd was also in the meeting.

But it was his daughter's bright eyes and many questions about her new friend that made Jeralt stay. Made him listen to their... _proposal_ and made himself hear things through before he sighed in exhaustion. He wasn't very good at this stuff and he sure as hell didn't feel good when Byleth and he left the castle with a promise of another meeting at a later date.

Jeralt could only sigh their whole trip home, briefly wondering how his father was going to take the news of Byleth's new "friend"

Jeralt replayed the meeting over in his head, it seemed at least that the King didn't want this supposed engagement any more than Jeralt did, but that could be chalked up to their bad blood. 

_"Before I walk out of here and into the aqueducts, "Jeralt said, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "What did you just suggest?"_

_"A mere inquiry of engagement," Rufus answered despite the fact his brother, the King was shooting murder in his gaze, "To be quite frank with you, it's because neither your family not yourself have any ulterior motives **should** you choose to accept."_

_"They could just accept only to try and get at our necks, brother," Lambert spoke, at last, lifting his head from his hands._

_Jeralt wasn't offended in the least at the statement, Goddess knew that the sooner he could get out of here the better._

_"I doubt it," Rufus said, grabbing a biscuit from the plate, huh Jeralt hadn't expected the man to like sweets, "Something tells me despite her family's feelings on the matter, that girl has her own opinions on things."_

Damn if he wasn't right, the meeting had adjourned when Byleth asked if Dimitri could come and visit them on the mountain. Lambert looked at him in apology and Jeralt had promised to ask his father on the matter. But considering what a pushover his father was when it came to Byleth and her few wants, he doubted he'd be angry about the possible visit for long.

Unless Bilbo had to get the ladle, he really hoped it wouldn't come to that.

The travel cart jerked a bit and their driver didn't bother to censor a few curses from his lips, ones Jeralt couldn't be bothered to silence. It's not like his dad's friends ever once held back when it came to their filthy mouths anyhow, despite Bilbo's and Tauriel's best efforts.

"Papa?" Byleth broke through his daze, looking up at him with her muted face. But her legs were swinging off the side of her seat, tiny knees knocking together, and feet kicking out occasionally. Her body swayed back and forth with both the flow of the cart and a hum he couldn't hear, "Do you think nanny Bilbo will teach me to knit?"

**_Knitting?_ **

What in the name of the gods, Nemesis, and half-starved dogs was she on about now? She's never been interested in knitting before. Usually, she only sits with Bilbo and Ori while they're knitting because she likes hearing them tell stories. What in tarnation is she on about now? "Why do you want to knit?"

"Constance says that she likes to sew embroidery." Byleth nods, kicking her legs out still, "She says lots of ladies learn how to sew. So I wanted to learn too, but then I thought about it, and I thought making scarves and stuff would be more interesting. Dimitri says he wants to learn how to sew from his auntie, so I figured if Constance and Dimitri know how to sew things, then I can knit things."

Oh. Oh no.

"What about darning socks?" Jeralt rubbed the back of his head. He learned how to darn socks back in his soldier days because if you didn't darn your own socks you wouldn't have socks, and then you'd lose your feet. He could teach her that. A military thing. Something the prince would already know how to do so...

"I can learn that too." Byleth knocks her ankles together in a silent game, "Sylvain said his brother taught him how to darn socks. Felix and Glenn know too. But I still wanna make big scarves for my friends when they come visit."

Well.

At least Bilbo will be happy.

* * *

**2 years later**

* * *

Jeralt stood in the stables downhill from the Eisner family manor. A messenger had arrived in the morning riding a large, energetic horse with a broken shoe, and the stable hands needed a hand to hold the animal steady while they changed it. He had one arm around the horse's neck, and the other helping lift the offending leg, as the creature snorted down his back. It was hot and he was miserable. Not so much because of the work, but because of the news that the messenger had brought with him.

 **"Papa!"** A weight slammed into his back, causing him to grunt and shift forward. The horse leaned past him to sniff at the curious new creature clinging to Jeralt's waist. "Is it true? Dimitri is almost here?"

Jeralt rolled his eyes, praying to the Goddess for mercy. "If the man they sent ahead is right, the royal party should be here this evening."  
  
The stable hand-finished tapping on the new shoe and Jeralt was able to let the horse go free. It knickered and trotted sideways, only to be lead away to be fed and watered. Jeralt turned to look down at his daughter. Byleth was still in the clothes she wore to do her morning chores, and the hair on one side of her head was slicked up in a massive cowlick. The horse had apparently been hungry.

"And Dimitri will be with them?" Byleth idly pulled back on the belt off his side and leaned back on her heels. Single-mindedness was a family trait, but Jeralt wished he could get her to focus on something else. Anything else.

"That was the plan. Are you going to meet them looking like that?" He motioned to her hair, and the wet cuffs of her sleeves.

"I was helping Dori with the dishes."

"Well, go get cleaned up. They're coming to see you. I think Bilbo picked something out for you to wear, so you should see him." They were also coming to inspect the mines, but the prince was definitely coming to see her. Jeralt wondered how long they actually intended to stay.

"Okay!" Byleth excitedly pulled herself straight, then turned and sprinted back into the manor, leaving a bewildered Jeralt scratching his jaw in the dust.

There was a snicker and a sturdy hand smacked him on the back, "Whit's wrong, jeralt? Feart o' th' in-laws awready?" 

"What?"

The stable hands glanced among one another, one hiding his grin behind his mouth while the other two were outright amused.

"Th' royals ur solid tae please, aye? Ye nervous ye'r gonnae ruin the lass' chances at getting a jimmy?"

Their muffled laughs only made him want to scratch his ears in a huff. Traitorous bastards - you treat a few of your workers like friends, share a few beers, and this is how they repaid him? Mocking his plight while his little girl and the prince unknowingly caused the entire country to wait on bated breath. Would there be a war? Peace? A tragic love story that would force their children to run away while the adults wrung each other's necks?

Hardly.

Jeralt spat at the ground, finding the heat unbearable. "If anyone's worried right now, my best bet would be on the king."

"Oh?"

He turned his gaze towards the manor, particularly towards the west end where his father's office was.

"The Great and noble Lord Eisner is already intimidating to most people. I can only imagine what it'll be like to face that with the added bonus of him killing your father."

The stable hands paled and looked at one another, smiles gone and uneasiness spreading enough to make some of the horses shift anxiously. Jeralt couldn't help but feel a bit glad that they weren't all jolly any more and that maybe that'd teach them not to poke him when he's grumpy.

"Ye dinnae think th' laird wull huv a go 'n' rammy th' king, wull he?"

Jeralt sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "No... The old man isn't that prideful, especially since it involves Byleth."

In fact of the two, Bilbo was stricter, of course, that was in regards to whether it was to Byleths benefits or not. The Clans of Tailteann happened to be the odd duck in Faerghus society, because of how laid back they were, but given the fact that Tailteann was a spot of frequent battles in ages past, it could be said that they'd rather tend to the spirits of the fallen with warm hearths and comforting homes for the spirits to find rest in, than fighting in their honor.

Jeralt suspected his father and Bilbo both had been anticipating the looming engagement ever since that Gala where the Prince and Byleth met, not that it was so long ago, but God's it felt like it. Especially with how many hours his father spent cooped in his office these days. 

Lord Thorin 'Oakenshield' Eisner, Guardian and Overseer of the Sacred Mountains, and reluctant Viceroy of Fhirdiad. Jeralts father and role model when he was a young boy, and now his soon to be predecessor, Jeralt knew he was stretching this out as long as he possibly could, it was like an Eisner tradition in and of itself. Eisners weren't made to sit in one place and do paperwork of all things. The minutia of endless forms and contracts to be overseen and signed just wasn't up to snuff with what their blood longed for.

Maybe he should've just become a Mercenary, then Byleth would have never met the prince. But then that'd mean abandoning responsibility for the second time, leaving behind his younger brothers already abandoned once by Fle—No, it was what it was.

Jeralt had made his bed, now all that was left to do was lie in it.

"I want the halls cleaned." The mighty shout bellowed through the halls as the great lord of the manor slammed a door from somewhere out of sight, "And someone grab my sword! I won't greet the bleeding king without it in my hands! And light a fire in the great hall!"

There was a lull of quiet, a quiet that Jeralt imagined Bilbo and Balin, as the most trusted and closest advisors, were speaking with Thorin and trying to reason with the man. As the eldest son and heir, Jeralt couldn't be arsed to beat a dead horse, besides, if those two couldn't convince Thorin everything was going to be alright then no one could. He's confident that no swords will be in his hands at the greeting. Only bread and salt. 

Speaking of bread and salt, was that Tauriel he spied peeking around the corner?

Indeed, it was impossible to miss that head of flowing red locks, brighter than any other head in the mountain, sans the blondes like Jeralt. But Tauriel's hair was a bit unique here, so it was always impossible not to spot her. So he beelined towards her, greeting her with a wave, "Tauriel, getting ready for the show?"

She didn't jump, despite her attention clearly being elsewhere as she peered around the corner where Thorin was probably throwing shit and causing a wreck. Instead, she tilted her head towards him in acknowledgment, "Jeralt, hello."

He knelt down beside her, peering past the corner of the wall where, indeed, Thorin was surrounded by his men and throwing a fit. By his side Bilbo threw his hands up in the air, rolling his eyes very obviously. And, curiously, little Varric was over there. He, too, was rolling his eyes.

"Ahhh." Jeralt leaned foreword, curious now, "What is this I spy?"

"Varric's first diplomatic mission," Tauriel told him. Ah, so that's what she was doing. Spying on the kid's first day at work. A little hovering considering the two or three reasonable people with him, but he supposed he understood the concern when Thorin's buddies were enabling him.

Jeralt noticed that even though Varric was bouncing around and getting in the way of Thorin's tantrum just as much as the other two, the Lord's ire was only being directed at the adults. Thorin had a weak spot when it came to his grandchildren. He sighed. The old man aside, Varric had his work cut out for him if he was determined to be one of the more reasonable Eisners.

He rose again and patted Tauriel on shoulder. "Don't worry. If all else fails and he's determined to make an ass of himself in front of the King, we can just lock him in the cellar and tell them he's too sick to come out."

She looked up at him, shocked. "You _wouldn't._ "

"I _would_." Jeralt shrugged as he turned away. No one had ever called him a diplomat. In response, Tauriel stood, dusted off her pants, and went to help the others in calming down his father.

He needed to start getting ready, too, now that it came to it. Jeralt was sure he smelled like sweat and horses. He passed people busily buffing a shine into the weapons and armor decorating the walls, and sweeping the endless amounts of clutter that always found its way onto tables and floors into closets that will hopefully never be opened again. A delicious smell wafted by as Jeralt passed the stairs headed down towards the kitchen. Someone smart must have put Bofur in charge of getting dinner ready.

A scream, followed by the sound of splashing water and the patter of feet announced the arrival of Byleth as she rounded a corner with hair still damp from the bath and wearing only her chemise. She sprinted down the hall, determined to get away from some imagined terror. Used to her antics, he deftly scooped her up as she attempted to pass him. His daughter gave a couple of weak kicks in protest and then hung limply over his arm like a damp towel.

"It was an accident." The approaching sound of squelching shoes was the only hint Jeralt had for what might be coming.

"Uh-huh," Jeralt replied automatically and stopped when Fili rounded the core.

He couldn't stop the snort from escaping at the sight of his younger brother, his clothes sopping wet and his tangled rats' nest of wet hair hanging in his face. Fili didn't look mad, but he certainly didn't look happy either.

"She pushed me in..." Jeralt could hear the betrayal in his voice.

"I-I thought it was Uncle Kili!" 

Jeralt glanced at his daughter, watching her start to wiggle again in a feeble attempt at escaping. "Why did you want to push Kili in the bath?"

She huffed and there was a hint of a pout on her lips. "He was nosing in my stuff and trying to read my letters."

Ah. So that was it. Kili had been particularly keen on finding out about the prince if only to judge him on whether he was a good match for Byleth. His brother was always into the romantic stuff and had even given Jeralt advice on how to woo his wife. It was no wonder he was curious about how the two interacted.

"So he was nosing."

Byleth crossed her arms, "Nosing!"

Fili snorted, "Then I guess I should be getting back at my brother. Good."

Jeralt wasn't sure he liked that, especially with the royals visiting, but he couldn't stop his brother from whatever he was planning. He could only hope that it didn't happen where everyone could see. In the meantime, Jeralt pinched his daughter's cheek and earned a gasp.

"Try not to push any more people into baths. Make sure to behave when our guests arrive."

" _Yes, papa_." 

She was rubbing her pinched-pink cheek when Ori suddenly appeared at his elbow, that same puzzled expression he's had since he popped out of his mother.

"When you say our best behavior, what do you mean?"  
  
"Uh-"

"Does that mean no singing during meals?"

His question caught him off guard, especially when Nori appeared by his other side. " _No singing?_ Now that just ain't right? What about cleaning up? Can we still throw things?"

"Do you think they eat as much as us?"

"Probably not, Bilbo and Byleth eat more than the horses."

Jeralt sighed and placed his daughter down, "I don't know what's gonna happen. Just don't...do anything stupid."

Both men looked confused as he urged his daughter to finish getting ready. They almost managed to prod him with questions before he told them he had to get a bath and scampered away. Though he technically had some say in what was to go on during this little get-together, he'd rather leave all the formalities and rules to Bilbo. No doubt the man had a whole list of "what to do" and "what not to do" in the presence of company. Something their manor hasn't had in ages.

Setting Byleth down, Jeralt searched for the set of clothes he knew Bilbo had set out for the occasion.

"Nanny put them way up there," Byleth said, she stood on her tiptoes to try and better point at where it was, and Jeralt couldn't be happier she was still in her preteen years. Soon enough, she may even display the first signs of ' _teenage rebellion'_. Hopefully...it wouldn't be as bad at his, God's he wished he'd asked Rhea more about Sitri in her teenage years, then Jeralt could've prepared better for this... treacherous period of his life.

"All right, I got em, go in scamp, you need to be washed and ready to greet them," Jeralt said, and that got her moving, Jeralt really wished she wasn't so excited about this. Both he and the King knew this to a simple friend visiting a friend, hells, anyone in this family who was halfway sane knew it. But...people were strange, stranger when it came to a Blaiddyd becoming friends with an Eisner, especially after what happened with Maglor.

Somehow Jeralt felt that was the point in which everything changed if that hadn't happened, Maglors'reign of terror would never have ended, Lambert would've never been King—

Yeah he should stop there, Jeralt was a young man when Maglor was still King, he'd been quite young when Maglor breathed his last, and he hadn't been allowed to see more than Maglors'...demonic wife's silhouette as she picked his body up and carried him away.

He still got shivers from that sight.

"Papa!! I'm done!" Byleth called from the other side of the wooden partition. He tossed her a towel and waited for her to get a majority of the water from ou of her hair and body. While she did so he finally inspected her clothes.

Bilbo really knew how to blend formality and practicality with these. The old Nanny had prepared everything from the quilted skirt, the pockets space to hold her findings because Jeralt knew Byleth would take Dmitri for an in-depth tour of her newest cave finding, and insulted shirt and tights. Really, Bilbo had thought of everything.

"Can I get my clothes now?" Byleth asked, poking her head around the partition, Jeralt handed them to her and waited outside while she dressed.

Luckily, Byleth was never a child that took too long to dress, and her clothes were fairly simple. So she emerged a small handful of minutes later, all dolled up in her nice clothes, poking her head out, hair done up. The hair was not done up neatly, because Byleth wasn't skilled at such things thanks to Bilbo and Tauriel always doing her hair for her. "I'm ready."

"Bilbo will have something to say about that hair." He pats her back, leading her away from the room. Her little...friend would be here soon. "Come on, let's go."

"I want Tauriel to do it!" Byleth tugs a lock of hair in front of her forehead, "Hers are prettier."

Prettier.

Jeralt sighed, wrinkling his nose. For a girl that's had all of one female presence in her life, Bilbo not counting despite having effeminate hobbies, Byleth was remarkably apathetic about more girlish things. He'd expected, hoped even, that she would be more resistant and less interested in that stuff, if only because he has very little understanding of it himself. While Sitri had been very feminine, Byleth wasn't nearly as much so. In fact, most of her hobbies and interests were masculine. Jeralt had thought she wasn't into these things. But it's starting to look like she just doesn't care.

He just hopes she never asks him for advice on this stuff, because he's just going to point her straight back to Bilbo and Tauriel.

When they get to the greeting hall, the rest of the family, their small inner court, is already there. Byleth beelines towards Tauriel without a blink, zipping by like she's going back to her hive. Kili looks unbearably smug from where he's sitting next to his wife, and Fili looks just as smug.

He's filled with the urge to turn around and walk away. Unfortunately, the sons of the manor lord are always sat together, any spouses and children added, of course. As was proper. And Jeralt could see his and Byleth's empty seats on Fili's left. The only thing shielding him from his two brothers is his kid. Great.

Byleth bounced next to Tauriel, and a moment later her aunt turned in her chair so that Byleth could stand between her knees to have her hair done. At the same time, the large heavy door at the back of the hall slammed open and Thorin stomped through. He looked especially regal in a long, thick furred robe in their family colors of orange and silver. Jeralt didn't see any weapons, but the robe was big enough they could still easily be hidden on his person. He sighed, absolutely certain that there was going to at least be a shortsword and a few daggers wherever he could place them and made a note to ask Bilbo to check if Thorin was ever left alone with the King.

There was a crash at the front as one of their guards nearly fell through a side door. He took a moment to gather himself and then looked around the hall. "My Lord! The Royal Party is approaching. They're on their way through the town now, should be at the gates in only a few minutes!"  
  
Thorin clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention. "Alright! I don't want any of you to embarrass us tonight! As far as they know we're as proud and majestic as they are. Jeralt, you and Byleth go out to greet them since you know them best. Let Byleth do the talking though. Between the two of you, she's got far more charisma. Everyone else, get to your places."

Jeralt sighed and waved Byleth over as everyone scrambled to make themselves look presentable for visiting royalty. She took his hand and pulled him towards the front doors, humming to herself all the while. Her hair was done up in some admittedly cute braids now, that would hopefully last the whole night.

"Are you ready to see Dimitri again? How long has it been?"

Byleth swung his hand, almost skipping now as they ducked into the front yard. Banners of blue and silver attached to carriage and horses could be seen climbing the hill. "A long time! We went to the castle last time, and the time before that, and the time before that...Dimitri has never been here before though! I'm going to take him all over the mountain."

"Alright. So long as you don't get the prince eaten by a bear."

"I won't," Byleth said with more determination then a kid should. "I know how to avoid bears."

Jeralt snorted but didn't fight her on that. They had been careful about living on this mountain. It was a place that came with many different dangers, such as strong winter chills and storms, wildlife that was larger and more robust than average, even unknown creatures, and people lived on this mountain - forever wishing to be alone and quick to distrust.

He'd grown up living by his father's strict set of rules when it came to wandering on his own. Most were common sense and the rest was learning how to take care of oneself in they were alone when danger arose. Jeralt was lucky enough to have two little brothers to run around with and watch each other's back, but Byleth was alone. So they had been extra careful in making sure she knew the rules and the things she should avoid to stay out of trouble.

It was only a secondary thought that Byleth was a girl and probably shouldn't be wandering out on her own, but the Eisners had dealt with strong women all their life, it never really occurred to them to treat her any differently.

Except now...that she was going to be running around the mountain with a fiance.

No, they should have been stricter. Then she wouldn't be playing with boys and already getting married-!!

" _They're here,"_ Byleth whispered with excitement. Her hand gripped his tight when the carriage finally stopped and the driver hurried to open the door.

"Yes," Jeralt said, annoyance in his voice but he was sure Byleths excitement made his voice fall on deaf ears, "They are."

Arms crossed in a stance of intimidation, something easy with his stature, and resting facial features. They watched the Royal procession file in, the Vanguard followed by the carriage, where the Young Prince in a very unprincely manner was sticking his head out of the window, the Rearguard, led by...a Dominic followed after.

Well, this was going to be great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love LOTR, that's it, we love LOTR, and now it's canon in this fic!!
> 
> As for who Jeralt's mom is...well, you'll have to guess from the letters given and other context clues, but yes, their mom did leave, and Thorin was heartbroken, but he got better!!
> 
> Byleth is Age 10  
> and Dimitri is Age 7/8 when they first meet, cause the Autumnal Equinox was like right after Byleth's and right before Dimitri's birthday.
> 
> And two years have passed, so Byleth is 12 and Dimitri is about 9/10, and Byleth is very childlike cause she's got no frame of reference for how she should act, and Varric is her only cousin but he's like, 6-7 years older than her.
> 
> We hope you enjoyed this week, and I promise I'll be on time next week!!
> 
> -Val


	10. Part .25-Welcome to Mount Gwenhywer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot again....sowwy

Lambert dreaded this visit, he felt the knots in his stomach twist and turn even as he looked upon his son's happy face, Dimitris' happiness a beacon of light in this dark time. It was supposed to be a visit to the Mountain, a _play date_ but...the councilors had suggested that Lambert broach the topic and discuss it with Lord Eisner Senior himself, and while he did heavily imply that they would be potentially discussing the matter only, Lambert had a feeling that there was the assumption that this was the beginning of the engagement and subsequent courting.

Lambert watched Dimitri excitedly point out the passing scenery, the cluttered trees, and snow that thinned as they reached the center of the mountains. The heart of the Eisner lands.

Lambert was beginning to feel nauseous...and excited...and in awe?? Rodrigue would surely be upset with him for that, especially considering Lambert's fears on how this meeting would go south. They were to stay for three days and two nights, a short amount of time to most, but for Lambert...it was the start of the longest trip of his life.

Would he be able to get through it in one piece?

"Father look!!" Dimitri said excitedly, shedding his princely persona, and sticking his head out of the window to shout and wave at Byleth, "Byleth!!!"

Yes, Lambert decided, he could indeed so this.

The king sucked in a calming breath, looking up the stairwell of the manner, up the mountain path, to see Byleth and her father waiting for them at the top. The girl, perhaps impatient, moved a step or two down to wave at her friend, but the father, Sir Jeralt the Blade Breaker, stood with his arms crossed, waiting beneath the archway of stone.

Lambert wonders, for a moment, why he isn't in the hall waiting for them, why he's the one going to escort them in but realized that the Eisners are lesser nobility. It takes him by surprise somehow, despite him having known this since he was a child. But, somehow, he keeps forgetting. It's easy to forget when this was the same family that slew his father, the mad king, who was terrifying even by Blaiddyd standards. 

The was the family that still used his father's cape as a flag for their stairwell.

He could see it, old and faded, ragged through years of ware and rain. But it was hanging from the archway, a morbid warning to any who would dare attack the manner. He could practically hear Lord Thorin's voice. **_'Look what I did, Lambert. Look what I can do.'_**

He's never met the man that killed his father. It's both terrifying and exciting. He doesn't know whether to thank the man or flee. He doesn't know if he should even think about it when he enters the manor. There's a lot Lambert wants to ask. _'How did you to it?' 'What did he say?' 'What happened to my mother?'_

He's not sure he'll ask, however.

Dimitri and Byleth, two innocent children completely unaware of what the hanging cape above their heads mean, clasp hands and hug each other tightly beneath it. Oblivious to the irony as they greet each other with a warm, "I missed you!"

Beside him, Cornelia, originally the only adult of the royal family that was going to escort Dimitri here, made a scoffing sound, "How terribly poetic. Very Adrestian." 

"I won't tell him." Lambert decides, stepping up those stairs, "The past is passed, no need to keep pointing out the sordid little details when they're happy and uncaring."

"I wasn't expecting you to." Cornelia pulls up her skirts, following him, arm in arm, step by step, "I simply enjoy the morbid irony of it."

"It's a good thing." Lambert decides, watching his son and Byleth, "A _hopeful_ thing."

At their approach, Sir Jeralt took a moment to detach his daughter from Lambert's son. The girl hadn't appeared before him in riding clothes again after the time at the gala. Jeralt had confided in him during one of their trips to Fhirdiad that his ear had nearly been ripped clean off his skull when their nanny had found out he'd let her go in such plain clothes. Lambert had felt a sense of kinship with the man, having also to answer to the ire on the Nan of Blaiddyd Castle on occasion. 

Byleth looked up at Jeralt in confusion for a moment as he motioned towards Lambert's approach, then stepped back and curtsied gracefully. "Welcome to our home, Your Majesty." The task of greeting finished, she grabbed Dimitri's hand and pulled him towards the stairs leading into the manor proper. "Come on! There's so much to show you!" Dimitri followed along easily, like the good lad he was, eager to stretch his legs after the long trip in the carriage.

Sir Jeralt watched them go thoughtfully, then turned back and gave his own stiff bow. "Welcome to Mount Gwenhwyvar, You Majesty, My Lady. If you'll follow me, dinner is all ready to begin. Everyone is waiting to meet you."

His father's cape flapped above them in a breeze, and Lambert had to stop himself from swallowing nervously. He stepped up next to the man while Gustave ordered the carriage unloaded and the guards they had brought with them into position. Lambert hadn't been able to convince his arms master to stay in Fhirdiad once he had learned that Lambert would be going to the place where the last King fell. Apparently, he needed to measure the Eisners for himself.  
  
"Miss Byleth's curtsy has improved." Lambert watched Cornelia examine the approaching manor. She was curious about this place, and all the legends associated with it.

Sir Jeralt gave a short chuckle. "She's been practicing. We haven't been able to get her to calm down since we got the notice you were coming, weeks ago. Looks like we still need to work on her manners though."

Lambert waved the comment away. "I don't know if that's necessary. She's still a child. And your family has hardly ever shown a true reverence for the crown." Behind him, Lambert heard the exact moment Gustave spotted the deteriorating cape hanging from the arch with a gasp and the sound of a dropped trunk. "Why start now?"

"Yeah..." Jeralt rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before gesturing towards the manor. "I hope you don't mind the food. Might not be as fancy as the castle's, but we grow and cook everything ourselves."

Normally the family went in rotation on who would cook for the night, more so to make the chores fair and to give everyone a break from the hot fires and steaming kitchen. This usually led to some interesting meals. Bilbo took care to make family-style meals with fish, hearty potatoes, and enough greens to make the family grumble. Bofur was another one of the better cooks, always changing things up and using spices to make the food interesting. He was the (un)lucky one to be cooking for the night, making their highnesses very lucky that it wasn't someone like Dwalin cooking.

They had been dealt a whole meal of nothing but beef jerky and Bilbo had stressed how ridiculous they'd look if they were to serve such things to royalty.

Thorin had answered that they refused to mess up the chore wheel for a bunch of **"royal pain-in-the-ass"** and they'd like what they served them. It had seemed like his father had won due to how aghast the nan was over his behavior. But it only took a week of Bilbo refusing to talk to Thorin to make the clan head to finally fold.

"Nonsense!" The king said with a real smile as they walked up the steps to the manor. "I already find my mouth watering at the aroma."  
  
Jeralt shrugged then pushed open the door to the manor, mouth pressed into a very thin line when they were greeted by the whole Eisner family (minus Byleth) standing in the entrance hall. Though their kin were not tall folks like the Blaiddyds or Gautier's, even on the short side of most nobles, they still were broad and hairy enough to look intimidating. Jeralt and Tauriel seemed to be the only people in the family of average height, and both were thoroughly teased about it when the time seemed right.

King Lambert's face seemed pale at the sight and Jeralt knew the king wasn't the type to take their stature as a joke. "A-Ah, Lord Thorin. Greetings!"

Bilbo elbowed Thorin when the man didn't answer, only adding further tension to the situation. It was bad enough that his father wasn't the first to say greetings to the King, but to outright glare at him like that? Good thing Byleth wasn't here to see it…

It was at that moment Jeralt was reminded that he was an Eisner with Eisner luck, in other words, what was he reminded by, well he was reminded of that fact when Byleth came tumbling in, Dimitri in hand, asking Bilbo about her gloves and tools for when she went _'exploring.'_

"Nanny, I can't find my toolbox," Byleth said, the Prince distracted by the Manor and all its holdings, as well as Jeralts father. When the Prince realized who he was, the boy fell into a bow immediately, something that should've been the other way round.

"Greetings Lord Eisner," the Young Prince said, hand over his heart, "Thank you for allowing us to stay at your Manor for the next few days."

The adults and their posturing were lost, because Jeralt had to admit, whether the kid knew it or not, and Jeralt swore he probably didn't, Dimitri had a certain innocent charm to him, one that easily won over his father's soft heart. Thorin sighed, and lowered himself slowly onto his knees, and smiled, actually smiled at the Young Prince.

"Well met, Your Highness, I am indeed Lord Thorin _'Oakenshield'_ Eisner, I should hope you will join us for dinner, "Thorin shifted his gaze to Byleth, "And that a certain _dignified_ young lady will keep in her excitement until tomorrow."

Byleth pouted and the Prince bashfully stared at his shoes, nonetheless they chorused a quiet, "Yes."

"Well then, in that case, children follow me and come wash your hands, "Bilbo said, clapping his hands and ushering them both into the washroom, not before shooting Jeralt a glance that said, _'Fix this!'_ because while Blaiddyd the younger managed to sway Thorins' heart, Blaiddyd the older would have a much more difficult time.

"I hope you brought ale, "Jeralt muttered.

"Pardon," Lambert stuttered, "We did, Gustave shou—" The King whipped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late, Jeralts father had already heard it.

"Why," Thorin began, as he stood slowly to his full height, "is there a _Dominic_ on my Mountain!!"

The door behind them creaked open, and the Dominic in question shouldered himself through hefting a large cask in front of him. 

"I have come," Gustave let out a breath as he lifted it onto the table in the center of the hall, "to ensure the safety of my liege in unfamiliar and somewhat hostile territory. As any knight would."

Jeralt turned an accusatory eye towards Lambert as Thorin's face grew ruddier. The king grimaced. He had entirely forgotten about the relationship between the Dominics and the Eisners. Though he doubted the man would resort to such trickery, if Gustave had come only to cause trouble then Lambert would personally boot him back to Fhirdiad.

"Gustave! These people are our hosts. A little courtesy, if you please."

Chastised, the old knight took up a position behind his king but refused to look at the family gathered in the hall with them. Thorin looked as though he was getting ready to climb up on the table to come after him, but Jeralt shot him a look. 

"Look, the king trusts him not to pull anything, and that should be good enough. We're not here tonight to start any fights, aye?" Jeralt's glare rounded the room and settled eventually on Gustave himself, who sneered. Lambert mentally thanked the man for his faith, misplaced though it was.

The family was oddly quiet, some of them slouched in their seats, just waiting for the next shoe to drop. Thorin showed his teeth. "If the Dominic swears he isna here to start anything. That he comes and will go in peace with nary a word or slander, I'll allow him in. I can be that gracious at least." Around the table, several people rolled their eyes.

Lambert turned to look at Gustave and raised his eyebrows. "Well, go on." 

The knight's jaw dropped, but after a moment he realized that his liege was serious, and clenched his teeth together. "Aye. I come in peace. I swear I am only here as a shield on his majesty's behalf. You'll not hear any complaint from me."

"Excellent!" King Lambert beamed, a small bead of sweat forming on his cheek. "Now I must ask what that delicious aroma is! I'm quite excited to taste it."

Bofur grinned while fiddling with his pipe. A mischievous look formed on his face as he took a small puff. "I'm honored that the King of Faerghus is eager for my cookin'. I personally prefer the tails, but we did something extra special for ya."

Lambert frowned, "Tails...?"

"Aye." Jeralt didn't like the spark in his kin's eye, "Skeever is quite a delicacy here. I figured this time we'd serve the other end."

Fili and Kili started to elbow one another with a few snickers as Tauriel shot them a warning look.

"T-The other end...?"

Gustave growled and walked forward with purpose, "Now see here. You will not be serving his majesty a rodent!"

"Ow," Bofur clutched the front of his tunic. "You hurt me sir. That's our culture you're insultin'."

"Quite rude that is."

"Very."

Jeralt sighed as the rest of his family nodded and sent the Dominic angry glares. To the man's credit, he didn't wither under the combined glares of a bunch of rowdy mountain men like most people would, but that didn't mean he'd win either. Jeralt decided to end this by smacking Bofur upside the head, ignore his father's scoff, then apologized to the king and their other guests. Yes, even the Dominic.

"We don't eat skeever in this house," Jeralt sighed before gesturing towards the other room where the long, dining table was. "Not since Bombur almost died from rat poisoning."

The rest of his kin laughed as the man in question's eyes widened and soon they were all teasing him instead of the king. After taking the heat off their guests, Jeralt quickly urged the group to follow him into the dining room where Bilbo and the two children were already seated. Jeralt couldn't help but feel put out that Byleth was sitting next to the prince, who was in his seat.

Jeralt made to step forward and reclaim his proper seat, but it seemed like Bilbo possessed downright supernatural abilities when it came to sniffing out trouble. Those honey brown eyes landed on him with such a look of disapproval and judgment that he found himself stopping under that gaze. Bilbo didn't let up, raising a finely plucked eyebrow at him. Jeralt, now feeling like a little kid with his hand in the cookie jar, sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, backing away from that disapproving stare and settling on just taking the prince's seat.

This left Jeralt at the guest table next to the king. The Grand Duchess sat on the other side, hands folded and looking very prim and proper despite the ruckus going on around her, a trait she seemed to share with Bilbo and Tauriel. All three of said persons seemed to practically sense the other well mannered and sane people in the room, and all three shared a look with one another before resuming whatever supernatural powers of etiquette that came with being not insane. Jeralt shifted in his seat, feeling ill at ease with being regulated to the guest table in his own house. Especially with a Dominic standing behind him. The fucker.

"And who must you be?" Thorin asked over all the noise, actually managing to quiet down the crowd. Dad always did have that commanding presence, Jeralt envied the way everyone shut the fuck up when he spoke. And now his father's eyes were locked on the Grand Duchess, who had already been announced, dad, just ask what she's doing here.

The Grand Duchess took it like a champ, though, simply nodding her head properly, "I am Grand Duchess Cornelia, wife to Grand Duke Rufus Ogma Blaiddyd and head of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus' medical studies. I was to escort my nephew via marriage, Crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, to your manor as his chaperone and offer my services in this time of friendship. Though my duties as chaperone are now to be shared with my brother in law, seeing as he decided to join our diplomatic visit."

The fact she stared Thorin in the eye and looked very ready verbally spar with him was downright admirable in Jeralt's humble opinion.

"Well, I think that's simply wonderful," Bilbo spoke up from his own seat, folding his napkin and single-handedly preventing any such sparing. "I would very much like to discuss your studies over tea sometime during this visit. I'm quite curious about what is being done, medically speaking, in the kingdom."

"That would be lovely." The Duchess nodded approvingly.

Somehow, someway, this visit was going well, and Jeralt has no idea how this happened.

Jeralt supposed it was because dinner was starting to be served and considering the state of agricultural affairs on any given day in Faerghus, food was probably the few times on Faerghus history they set aside grievances to enjoy together as a people. Especially food like this, Cheesy Verona Stew, Roasted Pheasant, they'd been saving that, Plenty of fish dishes, Jeralt even went searching for the Garreg Mach meat pies from his tenure there. And for dessert, Bilbo had specially made his own version of saghert and cream.

Bofur was looking very pleased with the results, though he was hoping to rile up the Young Prince, not that he could. It turned out the boy liked almost every dish on the menu, the stew and dessert being his favorites.

"I hope the Young Prince finds the stew to his liking?" Bofur asked taking a bit of bread and dipping it in his stew.

The Prince's eyes shown brightly, "I do, Verona Stew is my favorite!"

Bofur was smiling when the Prince said that, confliction clear on his face as to whether he should be proud the Prince liked his stew or ticked off that the Prince wasn't rude.

Eating is probably the only thing Jeralt was aware of that Faerghans could do without arguing with each other, dinner was surprisingly pleasant. With their kids becoming attached at the hip, Jeralt and the King (both equally aggrieved at this turn of events, but coming to terms with it) had had plenty of time to get to know one another. He was surprised at how easy it was to make small talk with the man. Lady Cornelia was as aloof as always, but could at least hold up her end of the conversation.  
  
She had asked after his father's health, and so Jeralt was quietly explaining the matter of his father's hip and how much it bothered him when a movement at the other table caught his eye. Byleth, empty dessert plate in front of her, was practically vibrating in her seat and staring him down. Dimitri, the polite child that he was, was making small talk with Tauriel. Jeralt raised his eyebrows at his daughter and she looked towards the back door and back at him.

He turned back to the King, who had spied Byleth himself. "Your Majesty, are the clothes the Prince is wearing very expensive?"

Surprised, Lambert squinted over at his son. He clearly had not even considered Dimitri's clothes. Someone else had almost certainly made sure he was dressed. The Prince was wearing a nice but fairly plain blue tunic with silver embroidery, covered by a thick leather and fur coat. "Those are just his traveling clothes. Nothing special."

"Then it won't matter if they're completely ruined?"

"...No?"

"Alright, then I'm going to let them go if you don't mind before Byleth explodes." Jeralt nodded at his daughter, who wasted no time in interrupting Dimitri's conversation with a tap on the arm. When he turned back to her, she grabbed his elbow and practically dragged him out of his chair before pulling the bewildered Prince out of the hall.

The king chuckled as he watched them go. "I know you and I aren't looking forward to it. But I think perhaps it's time we seriously sit down and talk about our children's future."

Jeralt could only grunt in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They babies, they gorgeous.
> 
> But yeah, Lambert's first visit on the mountain, as to why Lambert is asking about his mom it's less in worry and more in fear she was...she sure was something. For those of you who have played Dark Souls we based Maglor's wife off the Dancer of the Boreal Valley, so...Lambert's asking what happened out of fear because he's afraid one day he'll open the window and there she'll be.
> 
> We also gave the Blaiddyds...a helluva interesting genetic history there's some werewolf in there, and in that vein of thought Maglor had a sister that went insane and is haunting the catacombs of Faerghus wailing on her bad days and just, stomping around on her good days...base od Vicar Amelia.


	11. Part .25- Local Children Play with Weapon of a Mass Murderer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henlo, we are back.

Byleth was scanning the sky the moment they stepped out of the manor, "We still have a bit of daylight."

That was just enough time to show Dimitri around the outside of the manor, like the stables where there was a mixture of horses and ponies (and a very old cat that liked to be left alone), the 'training grounds' which happened to be a man-made clearing with weapons strewn about or embedded in trees. Then she pointed out the hiking trail just a little ways away from the house, along with her favorite climbing tree, and the river that came from the direction of the manor before it led towards a small waterfall and down into the lake.

"I'll show you more tomorrow," Byleth announced proudly as they trudged back towards the house.

Their boots and hem of their clothes were a little muddy and no doubt Bilbo will scold her for not being careful. But she was too excited and wished it was already tomorrow so she could show off the new part of the mountain she found. This place had lots of berry bushes and even an unexplored cave! It's the perfect place for Dimitri and her to have an adventure.

"There's more?" Dimitri asked eagerly, not even looking tired after they'd been rushing around for an hour.

"Yes. If you don't have any sturdy boots, I bet we have some you can borrow." She was sure she had an extra pair of gloves for climbing harsh surfaces and though Dimitri didn't seem to mind the idea of all the physical exercise, she didn't want to scar up his hands.

"I have some boots, but I'm grateful for the offer."

She nodded, too used to his polite speech to make a comment when they walked inside. "Now it's time to show off the inside."

This was going to be one of the exciting parts due to how much stuff they had in their manor. Compared to the neat and cleanliness of the castle, where everything and anything had its place with a pristine gleam, the Eisner home was the opposite. Weapons and treasures hung on the walls without any sort of organization, strange portraits of past relatives making silly faces, others looking heroic as they fought armies and packs of dangerous animals. Most of them were stories she knew and shared with her friend each time he showed interest.

"Your ancestors fought a _dragon_?"

Byleth paused at the painting Dimitri pointed at, one where a small figure stood against a ginormous dragon in a cavern full of gold. She hummed thoughtfully, "I don't know the story about this one."

Dimitri took a closer look, finding the giant cavern very interesting.

"I think there used to be a dragon in the mountain because it looks like this one room deep in the mines."

Dimitri quickly looked at her, "Really? You've been there?"

She nodded, "Yes! I can show you sometime."

Dimitris' smile grew big, and his eyes were sparkling a lot, Byleth was very proud of herself. She'd been an excellent host thus far, she looked back at the big painting of the dragon and it's gold, and wondered where the big dragon could have gone, she'd been down there so many times now, it was a very nice place to be, although the gold was very hard to nap on.

"Oh," she heard Dimitri say, he was looking at the big painting hidden at the end of the hall, there wasn't anything in this wing of the house. No room, barely anything important that decorated the walls, but grandfather liked having it up, despite her Papa and Uncles feeling otherwise.

"What is it?" Byleth asked.

"Who's she?" Dimitri pointed at the big portrait of the yellow-eyed lady. Byleth wanted to know herself but Papa said it wasn't important, and Grandfather never said anything about it, Nanny Bilbo was quiet about it too.

"I dunno," Byleth answered, grabbing Dimitris' hand and pulling him down the hall where the more fun paintings and swords were, "Papa says it's not too important, let's go see the armory!!"

"Really? Do you have any lances?" Dimitri asked excitedly.

Byleth nodded, "Uhuh, Papa likes lances best, he's been teaching me some!!"

"Wow, you're learning both?" 

"Grandfather says it's important to know how to use every weapon just a little bit," Byleth said proudly, though her spirits were lowered when she remembered, "he was gonna teach me how to use an ax."

"Oh," Dimitri said softly, "Is he okay?"

"Mm," Byleth said, as she opened the door to Dwalins' armory, "His hip is bothering him a lot, but sometimes he can go out to hike with me!!"

"W-we're not gonna ride War Rams...right?" Dmitri asked as they entered, his eyes flickering to the different weapons and tables, "Byleth?"

"Hmmm...Okay, but you have to try at least once!!" Byleth said sticking out her pinkie, "Promise?"

"Promise!" Dimitri hooked his pinky with hers, sealing the most sacred of promises. Their pack made, Byleth felt very comfortable sharing with him the treasures.

She pushed back the clickity coins, gold sliding away as she pushed herself towards the back of the room, leading her new friend towards the special door. She held a finger in front of her lips, shushing him, "This door is secret, okay? So we gotta not tell anyone. But you're my best friend so I trust you."

Dimitri beamed at her, puffing up in pride and clenching his fists, nodding fiercely, "Of course."

Nodding with satisfaction, Byleth pulled open the heavy door, leading them to the balcony. This balcony didn't have stairs in the tower. No, the stairs were a track of rocks in the side of the mountain, only accessible by the rams that littered the cliff edge and the balcony itself.

It didn't have a name, but Byleth liked to call it the Ram Room.

"Oh, wow," Dimitri said, peeking passed her at the rams grazing on hay. The rams didn't pay either of them any mind, eating their dinner and lazing around on their beddings, ears flicking as the door flung closed behind them. Her friend moved from behind her, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to poke the nearest ram, "There's so many."

"Grandpa says they saved him during a battle." Byleth pokes the nearest one as well, "So he had a bunch bred and trained for the family."

"Why not warhorses?" Dimitri tilted his head, staring at the curled horns.

"We're short people." Byleth patted her own head, "And rams climb better."

Dimitri couldn't fault her logic. Gustav had been teaching him about different kinds of battle terrain, so he knew horses were best in open, flat fields. The mountain almost the opposite, so it stood to reason they would ride something else. He had even learned that in the deserts of Almyra they used an entirely different, taller, animal with a great big humped back. Dimitri wanted to find a picture and show it to Byleth one day.

He watched nervously as two of the rams snorted and knocked their big horns together. "Uh. Your father is really tall though. Does he ride them too?"

Byleth pointed into the shadows, where the light reflected red against the two beady eyes of a massive mountain goat, at least as tall as a draft horse, with shaggy dark fur and great shiny curled ram horns. The creature stamped it's foot and made a low "Baa" ing noise. Dimitri was sure he would have nightmares for the rest of his days.  
  
Before he could stop her, Byleth walked up to the giant ram and petted its nose. It snorted and leaned down to nuzzle her forehead. "His name is Old Softy. Grandpa says his sire was the biggest, meanest warhorse he could find. Papa doesn't like him though. He says he's sure Softy is a monster who would eat Papa before he'd let Papa ride him. So Grandpa says he can be mine when I'm older."

Dimitri felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back at the mere thought of Byleth riding the shaggy demon. Apparently he shared the same opinion as her father. He gave a nervous laugh. " _A-Ah_. He's very...nice looking. Byleth, you said there's an armory. Will you show it to me? I want to see how different it is from the castle."

"Oh! I forgot." She patted Old Softy's nose once more before stepping away and taking Dimitri's hand to pull him back onto the stairs. "Come on. We have a big collection. All my uncles like collecting weapons so they're all over the manor."

Dimitri looked back over his shoulder as they left, and thought he saw red goat's eyes glaring at him from the dark corner where Old Softy was.

The two went back through the special door, Byleth waving at all the baah-ing creatures while shutting the door with a soft click. It suddenly seemed darker than before, possibly due to the sun finally setting and all-natural light that could filter through was lost. Not wanting to be stumbling around in the dark, Byleth stared hard at her hand as a bead of sweat formed on her forehead.

"Byleth....?"

She was still holding his hand when she gave it a squeeze to wait while all her focus stuck to her free one. Two more beads of sweat appeared and the girl almost looked like she was turning blue before there was a soft crack and a teeny, tiny flame sprouted in her palm. Dimitri gasped in surprise while Byleth's face lit up like the light from her hand then gave her friend a very proud nod.

"I didn't know you could do magic!" Dimitri gasped in awe as they continued to the next room.

"I've been practicing."

Byleth held up her baby fireball until she spotted an unlit torch on the wall of the room and lit it. As soon as the light burned brightly, she let out a tired sigh before letting the magic in her hand die away.

"It's not a lot. My family doesn't have a lot of magic, but we seem to do well with fire."  
  
Dimitri nodded vigorously when she took the torch and led him down the small flight of stairs, "That makes sense! Father says your family has been forging great weapons for years, so of course, fire would be the most useful! Have you made a weapon before, Byleth? Was it hard? Can I see it?"

The girl felt something fuzzy going on in her chest, making her worried that uncle Bofur had slipped skeever into the food.

"I'm still learning to make daggers," Byleth said while rubbing her chest gently. "But I should be able to make it on my own very soon."

Dimitri gasped in awe and she felt that fuzzy feeling again. Giving his hand a little tug, Byleth opened another door at the bottom of the stairs and held up her torch just as Dimitri let out a squeak of surprise at their overstocked armory.

The armory was probably the most organized part of the house, sure there was still the inevitable mess Nanny couldn't control, but at least the pile was just the weapons that needed to be repaired or reforged. 

Hung on the walls and weapon racks were those that had been forged by generations past or were on the process of being perfected. Yet still, they were rather beautiful on Byleths' eyes, complete by Eisner standards or no.

"Wow," Dimitri said, slowly letting go of her hand to gaze around the armory, his footsteps taking care in avoiding the oil stains and strewn daggers on the ground, he eyed the number of lances and polearms that were laid on the rack, his hands hovering just shy of touching them before he continued to look around.

"Your family forged all of these?" Dimitri asked, turning back to face her, his blue eyes, (maybe she could give him one like his eyes now that he was here), sparkling.

Byleth puffed her chest in pride, "Yes, everyone is supposed to, some of these are collected weapons, like that lance."

Byleth pointed to the lance with a gnarled sharp blade for a point, there was a pretty blue cloth tied around the piece connecting the blade to the handle, and the silver of the blade and handle gleamed brightly. It was a lance that Byleth had been told belonged to the greatest and the evilest madman the Eisners had fell yet.

"Grandfather says this is the weapon he obtained from a great evil scourge on Faerghus soil who was drenched in blood as he cursed those who lived on this mountain," Byleth explained, hoping she was doing a good job of telling the story like Grandfather did.

"So it belonged to a monster?" Dimitri moved closer to it, staring at the twisted blade with wide eyes. He reached over, a little hesitant, but still creeping forward. His fingers stopped just before he touched it, hand jerking away and eyes still wide, "What kind of monster?"

"I don't know, I never asked." Byleth shook her head, staring at the blade with a gleam in her eyes. Her gaze flickered towards the prince, belly boiling as she found herself saying, "I dare you to touch it."

Dimitri jerked, wide eyes turning towards her, then flickering back towards the blue wrapped blade. He swallowed thickly, hands clenching and unclenching nervously. He swallowed again, unclenching his hands one last time before taking a deep breath and shooting his hand forward.

Byleth hadn't expected him to pick the lance up, but he did. This surprises her, because that lance, despite being made of silver, which was much lighter than other metals, it was an incredibly large and heavy weapon. She's watched her uncles try to pick it up before, and it took both of them together to lift it. But Dimitri picked it up with only a little effort, holding the too tall weapon upwards, where the gnarled blade scratched a bit of stone and left a fine line as he set it up. 

"Oops." Dimitri muttered as he stood it still, neck-craning upward to stare up flowing clothe, "Whoever wielded this was very tall."

"Maybe it was a really smart troll." Byleth tilted her head up as well, brows knitting together thoughtfully, "Or a giant." 

"Everyone knows the giants are gone." Dimitri tilts the lance this way and that. Every movement of the blade made the metal look like it was twisting, the barbs looking like teeth ready to munch. Byleth always thought that the blade would slide clean into someone, but rip up the flesh when pulling out. The great evil that wielded it must have wanted there to be as little survivors as possible, considering that barbed arrows are used for the same. "And trolls aren't smart enough."

"Must have been something else." Byleth guessed.

The scrape of the door and voices out in the hallway interrupted their wondering as Jeralt, followed by King Lambert, Sir Gustav, and Byleth's uncles Fili and Kili walked into the room and stopped dead in their tracks. Their eyes focused immediately on Dimitri hefting the large and deadly lance. The three Eisner men rushed forward to grab the weapon from the Prince, who retreated quickly to his friend's side. King Lambert and Gustav stood rooted to the spot, faces pale and staring at the lance.

" _I'm sorry!_ I didn't know I wasn't supposed to-" Dimitri wanted to explain. He didn't want to get in trouble on his first day here. What if they had to leave?!

"It's my fault. I dared him to touch the monster lance!" Byleth moved closer to Dimitri in a show of solidarity. If the adults tried to ground them she'd grab him and run. They could hide and become Mountain Folk and wear bear pelts. It might even be fun.

"Neither of you are in trouble. We were just worried. This weapon is especially dangerous." Jeralt turned to give a pointed look at his brothers. "We should have put it away before the King and the Prince got here."

Fili and Kili stepped forward and started ushering the kids back towards the door. "Come on, youngins. It's time for bed!"

"Don't want you sleeping too late tomorrow and missing out on any fun, right?" 

Relaxed now that they knew that they weren't going to be in trouble, Dimitri and Byleth let her uncles herd them away. Dimitri looked up at his father, who spared him a nervous glance and a rather wobbly smile as they passed. The Prince knew his father to be a brave man who was scared of none of the monsters they had in Faerghus. The King watched as Jeralt leaned the heavy lance back up onto the rack. He was staring at the weapon with slightly too wide, worried eyes. Dimitri was certain that whoever the monster was that owned the lance must have been a really scary one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, lot's of references to characters and stories here.  
> Let's start with the obvious Dragon painting, the gold being nice to sleep on is I guess our nod to Byleth's dragon blood, if you recall Smaug made his home deep within the Misty Mountains.
> 
> The lady with the golden-eyes, Jeralt, Fili and Kili's birth mother, I say birthmother because they don't really see her as their mom, well most of them don't Kili still might because he's the baby. She left a few years after the twins, Fili and Kili were born. Thorin misses her a little, and Jeralt spits on her name whenever he's given the chance. Bilbo, wiser than us all, suggests they leave it be because it is what it is.
> 
> Now finally, the lance, it is in fact, Maglor's spear left behind after his defeat at the hands of Thorin Eisner himself. Lambert was young when his dad died, but everyone remember's Maglor's spear. No one's forgotten that. So I guess you could say, they were afraid that Maglor's lingering anger might overtake the young Dimitri.


	12. Part .25-Your Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I missed last week...I'm trying my best.

Lambert sunk deep in the plush seat with a long, exhausted sigh. "That...could have been worse?"

Cornelia hummed from the side, her focus on writing a letter to his brother. He didn't bother to ask what it was about, knowing Rufus, he had probably asked her to write every little thing she saw and report anything of interest. The king couldn't help but wish to peek over her shoulder, and very rudely see if theres mention of their father's dreaded lance. But he held firm, deciding to shift his gaze to his sleeping son who was bundled up in furs and quilts that were no doubt made by the kin of this household.

Lambert smiled, reaching out to brush aside some of the blond strands as Dimitri sleepily snuggled further into the warm bed. "At least he's having fun."

"Yes," Cornelia didn't bother to look up from her letter. "Holding a madman's favorite weapon must have been quite _thrilling._ "

The king blanched, "He didn't know. It was just children playing."

She finished up her letter then neatly folded and sealed it with wax, her own insignia quickly drying on the thick envelope. "He will find out eventually - I do not understand why both families are keen to hide it."

"Because it's in the past." Lambert frowned, his legs starting to bounce in a jittery manner. "There's no reason for them to learn about old grudges."

"History cannot be hidden forever. A story known by all can't be kept secret for long."

Lambert felt his jaw lock as he began twiddling his thumbs, "I...I'm sure we'll find a better time to talk about it. When he's older and understands..."

Cornelia stood, humming thoughtfully. "I wonder how long you'll continue to drag your feet. First the marriage, and now your father."

"Ha," Lambert flinched and tried his best to stay positive. "Well, it is a big deal."

"As big a deal as your son getting engaged to the grandchild of your Father's murderer?" Cornelia asked, not once looking up from her letter, the sound of the quill against the paper filled Lambert with nothing but dread. No doubt this lance incident would be mentioned as well, Cornelia would get her answer the same as always. Any mention of Maglor and the legacy he'd left behind was to be kept silent, no one would bring it up or make any comments on the matter to Dmitri in any capacity.

Cleaning up his predecessors' messes fell to Lambert, he did not want D8mitri to bear the burden of such knowledge so young, though he knew that it would be D8mitris' detriment to say nothing otherwise.

"It's...not just one grudge Cornelia, you know that," Lambert said, his hand flinching away from Dmitris' when the boy shook and turned over, "It's more of a joke to call any of what he's done grudges anyhow, all his deeds are grounds for a Blood Feud."

The blood and bodies that amassed on the streets, the cowering parents, merchants, and their children when Lambert walked past. He'd never forget the fear his mere presence inspired in his people, never forget their faces, nor would he forget the curses Lord's had tossed at the both of them as they announced that Maglor was dead at last. Lambert had left for Garreg Mach not soon after, but that didn't shirk the weight of being known as the son of the Mad King when he walked those halls.

_'Hold steadfast child, all will be found in the light of the Goddess...and within your heart, if you would but listen to it.'_

Lambert sighed, thinking about the cryptic Nuns' words at a time like this, it did help though, he hadn't taken it to heart when he was in school but he had when he'd returned. Following his heart, weak as it was, gave him Dmitri, and it took from him as well.

"...And yet," Cornelia said, at last, setting down her quill, "No feuds, declarations of war, or angry letters demanding your apology have made their way to the castle since. Rufus told me of the _many_ scornful letters that made their homes in the castle before your coronation."

"Proof enough that what was in the past should remain there," Lambert argued.

Cornelia stood, folding her letter, and making her way to the door, so she could send it and then retire to her room.

"You may have inherited Maglors' legacy and blood, but your son will inherit your legacy, your blood, and your sins...Make it easier on the boy will you?"

And with that, she left, closing the door behind her, leaving Lambert alone to tend to these raging thoughts within him.

The king of Faerghus leaned against the stone wall, then inner armor scraping against the cold surface. His skin felt cold and clammy from old sweat, frozen by the frigid air of this high northern mountain, grime caked to him from the climb up. He should bathe, wash away the ick, but he's afraid to ask for the locations of the baths.

He's afraid to ask any questions.

 _'I saw my mother's blades.'_ He could hear himself already, _'Did she die too? What happened to her body? How did you return my father's? Where is her armor?'_

He should probably sit Dimitri down and tell him the sordid details of their family history. His son isn't ignorant, so to speak, he knows that Maglor was a...flawed...father and a worse man. A _very bad_ man that did _very bad_ things and hurt a lot of people and that's why he died, and that's why we don't talk about him. And his grandmother...well...she was a bad person too, and a worse mother. But he could never bring himself to explain the extent of their...evil.

How do you explain to your child that you still have nightmares about their grandparents? Your own parents? Maglor had never raised a hand to Lambert, but the king is very much aware that such a fact was only able to be said due to Rufus' efforts. Maglor loved them, loved them too much even, too possessively. But he was one off word away from screaming, mouth-foaming rage at all times. One wrong word away from becoming convinced someone had replaced his beloved children with traitors. 

And somehow his mother was worse without ever saying anything at all. 

"Dimitri." Lambert practices on a tapestry hanging next to his head, blue eyes locked on a rune patterned bear woven from thin threads of colorful wool. "Your grandfather tried to kill Byleth's in a fit of madness because he was insane and no one knows why. Byleth's grandfather killed him, somehow, in self-defense. Everyone was happy. Except for your grandmother, who went missing. No one liked her either because no one has ever heard her speak a word. I've never seen her face."

The tapestry didn't respond, only staring blankly, as tapestries do. 

"No, that's not good at all." Lambert tells the bear, shaking his head, "Okay, how about...Dimitri, sometimes...good people are related to bad ones, and those bad people hurt other good people, and that makes things between the two good people...weird..."

The bear stared at him with stern judgment.

Lambert groaned. This was hopeless. Did this explanation really need to happen now, or soon, _or ever_? He sighed internally, knowing that it did. But it didn't need to happen during this trip unless it came up (and he was kidding himself if he thought it wouldn't). Let Dimitri have fun with his friend without adding in the stress of knowing that her grandfather had committed regicide and no one (including himself) had the guts or the will to arrest him for it.

Tomorrow while the children played and the inspectors he'd brought with him to legitimize the trip did their job and checked out the Eisner mines, Lambert would have to suck it up and talk to Thorin and Jeralt about the relationship between Dimitri and Byleth. They really couldn't avoid it anymore. He looked back at the bear tapestry and imagined the frowning face of the family patriarch.

"Lord Eisner, I think it's clear that there is a significant bond between my son and your granddaughter that we can no longer ignore." He nodded and mumbled to himself, planning out every rebuttal and pacing the room.

The fire grew low enough that the King stubbed his toe on a thick wooden chair. He cursed, loudly, stumbled to the bed, and sat on the edge hoping he didn't wake anyone. He sighed, laid back, and closed his eyes. He was a King, so why was he so afraid of these people?

Perhaps it was because Maglors' blood ran through him, perhaps it was because he'd never been able to apologise to them for all the suffering Maglor put them through. Perhaps...perhaps it was because every day since Dimitri had been born Lambert feared when he'd become his father, become the monster that haunted his waking moments in the corner of his vision. Lambert lived in fear of that day, he became a tyrant that saw traitors in his people and did not shy from using violence and bloodshed as answers for everything. 

Lambert feared the day he'd look at his son and see the fear in his eyes, watch history repeat itself except Lambert would be the monster this time.

God's he was tired.

He looked back at the tapestry.

"Lord Eisner, if it were up to me, I'd insist on the children keeping to their friendship,"Lambert began, and watched the residual embers of the fire die down,"But after my father's reign of terror, there are those who want to bring the Blaiddyds to a heel..."

Lambert shook his head, no that was too forthcoming, he turned his gaze back towards his sons sleeping form. Quietly he sat beside the bed once again and watched the steady rise and fall of Dimitris' chest. At that age, Lambert had learned far too much about the state of his world, he'd celebrated his Father's death at that age, and cowered from the fearful and hateful voices of his people.

The fatigued king reached out to brush aside his son's hair, careful not to wake the youth who slept so peacefully. He couldn't remember a time in his life where he was able to experience such a thing, to be able to lay asleep at night and not worry if you'd find your father's hands firm around your neck. Such a thought made Lambert glad Dimitri wouldn't experience the ghosts like he did, or think about the demons that lurked in shadows.

"Lord Thorin...please allow our children to continue their friendship. I don't wish to burden them with our chaotic history, not when they look so happy."

Though it was simple and pathetic, it was the only thing he'd said so far that made him feel at ease. Instead of appealing to the man as a king, he wished to appeal as a father. Even if it meant taking in those scary glares and enduring the snide jokes and jabs, he'd endure it for his son.

Dimitri deserved to have the childhood that Lambert was robbed of.

* * *

**_"Ow!"_** Thorin hissed as he rubbed his arm, "You pinched me."

Bilbo glared and did it again, making the old lord hiss and push his hand away a little too roughly. "Stop that!"

"If you're going to act like a child, then I'm going to treat you like one."

**PINCH**

"Quit it!"

Why was he acting like this?! As far as the Eisner lord knew, he did nothing wrong! But now Bilbo was trying to corner him in the bedroom with that sour look he always got when something bad had happened. But the only thing wrong was that there were Blaiddyd's in his home.

So why was he attacking him?!

Bilbo huffed, folding his arms in that way he did when he was well and truly frustrated, sticking his nose high in the air and huffing, "I cannot believe you are less mature than actual children."

"Excuse me?" Thorin asked, voice dangerously low.

But, as always, Bilbo was unafraid of Thorin or his temper. Stupid, brave, endearing fool that he was. He hasn't been afraid of Thorin in a well and truly long time, and that courage was what won over the deep friendship and fondness in his heart, but Thorin admits it is also frustrating, to say the least. And now the nanny was attacking with all the furious righteousness of a gentleman wronged, "You have well embarrassed me this day! Why they must think this family has no manners!"

"What?" Thorin stood up, folding his arms, "I have done nothing wrong, _burglar!"_

"Oh, don't pull that with me." Bilbo clicked his tongue, wagging his finger like he was actually scolding a child. "There was no need to be so antagonistic to your future in-laws! Save it for after the wedding!"

Excuse-

 ** _"In-laws!"_ **Thorin boomed, nice and loud and echoey for the added effect so he could look properly intimidating. It was a solid performance as far as he was concerned, very dramatic and fit for a frightful king, alas, Bilbo was immune to such theatrics these days. It made him a good advisor, but a terrible frustration. "There will be no in-laws!"

"Oh, hush." Bilbo waved his hand loftily, easily dismissing the words of warning. "What are you going to do? Chase away every boy or girl that ever shows an interest? That's a right good way of making your granddaughter run away. Why we had a scandal just like that back in the shire...but nevermind that! We both know this is a fantastic union, both for her and the house. And I, for one, am not going to be an antagonist of this union. I refuse to sink to the level of a _**Sackville** Baggins_."

He said the name with suck disgust his nose actually wrinkled.

Thorin rolled his eyes, so Bilbo readied another pinch until he raised his hands up in defense. "Of course, I'm not going to chase everyone away, but it's too soon! She hardly knows any children her age. Maybe if we did that some other, _non-royal_ , **_non-Blaiddyd_** person will gain her attention. Jeralt's friend Lord Gaspard has two sons around her age. Or we could take her into Duscar to meet people there. It wouldn't hurt to encourage a relationship with our neighbors."

For a moment he seemed to be seriously considering the options before he realized what he was doing and he shook his head hard to rid himself of the thought. "No. She's too young! She's just a little child. We can wait until she's in her-in her 20s, or even 30s! Byleth is charming enough that she could easily woo someone in her 30s."

Bilbo's deadpan face must have told the old Eisner lord all he needed to know about Bilbo's opinion on that plan. He harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest, signaling he was through with the conversation. But Bilbo would not have it. He would talk some sense into this stubborn old goat even if it got him tossed out a window. "Now you listen to me. Anyone with even one eye can see how close those children have become. There is no doubt in my mind that the King will bring it up, and you will not embarrass us further. It's not as if the marriage would be tomorrow. I doubt the King is any more ready to see his son wed than you are. So you will keep an open mind on the subject, and _reign_ in your temper."

Thorin merely growled and looked away, leaving Bilbo with the satisfaction of thinking for the moment that he had won.

The man grumbled something under his breath, but due to Bilbo's flared temper, he refused to let it slide like a terrier biting a leg.

"What was that? You know how rude it is to mumble!"

Thorin turned his body to face down the smaller man, but his eyes refused to meet his, "I said, she's too young to marry - she hasn't even grown a beard yet-!"

The nanny didn't give him a chance to finish as he gave his arm a rough pinch before going into wild explanations about how Byleth didn't need a beard to marry. That wasn't the point Thorin was making, but Bilbo was already puffed up and going through all the reasons why the old Lord was an old fool and should keep his nose out of it.

Thorin cursed his need to have the final word as the nan raged for a good hour before giving him the silent treatment. Even long after the candles had been put out, Bilbo gave him the cold shoulder the whole night, a feeling much worse than being forced to sleep on the couch.

He'd have to make it up to him in the morning when he wasn't still irritated and likely to put a foot in his mouth again. But for now, he was going to stew in his annoyance a bit longer - if only because his two most hated enemies were sleeping under his roof, plotting to take away his granddaughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Lambie has got A LOT of thinking to do. And he's just tryna be a good king.  
> In reference to Lambert's mom, earlier I believe I mentioned his concern for her was less, what happened to her and more, is she still around, will I have to prepare for that?
> 
> Maglor's wife was based on the Dancer of the Boreal Valley. Dark Souls fan know, but we figured Maglor went through some shit when he had a run-in with TWSTD and he fucking went ballistic and started seeing traitors everywhere. And then he met Dancer, we don't know how but it happened they fell in love and two very Blaiddyd children popped out. And now here we are.


	13. Part .25- That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REMEMBERED
> 
> -Naz

Dimitri stared down at the three chicken eggs cradled in his hands, his face pale and mouth formed into a thin line as he tried his best not to squeeze. Sounds of sizzling meat greeted his ears and there was a gentle humming coming from Mr. Bilbo that made Dimitri want to sidle close and lean against him. It must be a nanny thing, because he felt the same way with his nan at home. They must have a magic that makes people feel safe and warm...

"One please," Byleth appeared in front of him, holding up a spatula.

Dimitri gulped and held out his hands for the girl to take an egg, "I've never made my own breakfast before."

He really liked it, especially since he got to experience the delicious smells.

Byleth cracked the egg with practiced ease against the side of the pan, separating the yoke from the shell, she called back to her Nanny, as Dimitri was struggling to see his own self attempting the same.

"Nanny? Scrambled or sunny side?" She asked.

"Scrambled darling, we've a lot of mouths to feed this morning," her Nanny, Poet Bilbo Baggins of Bagend, Dimitri thought his full title and named sounded very nice, and the Nanny had thanked him for such a thought.

_'Perhaps one day I'll take you two to see Bagend.'_

"Okay," she called back, maneuvering the spatula and frying the egg and yolk. Dimitri was still stuck on the concept of breaking the egg without making a mess.

"Do you like eggs, Dimitri?" Byleth asked him, taking another egg from his cupped hands.

"Uhm, a little bit, I normally eat them poached, but I've never had them scrambled," Dimitri explained, excited to try something new.

Byleth puffed up her chest in a way that made her look funny, but also very pretty and strong,"Well, I can say my scrambled eggs are the best!!"

"Really? Even your Nanny says so?"

"I don't know how she does it,"Bofur, the one who made yesterday's feast, commented poking his head in as he got the dishes to set the table,"But somehow her scrambled eggs are as good as the Burglar's."

Oh... _wait._

"Burglar?"

The nanny that might be a burglar whirled around quickly, throwing the look at Bofur, and putting the fear of disappointment into Dimitri's heart. Did, perhaps, all nanny's share that look? Do nannies go to a nanny school and learn that look of disapproval? Is it a special skill a nanny must master before they can become a nanny? It must be, because Dimitri can't imagine how else Nan and Mr. Bilbo share that look.

"It's a nickname." Bilbo reassures with looking back at he and Byleth, his eyes narrowing on Bofur. Somehow he was able to reach towards Dimitri and Byleth's heads for pats anyway, "One that's in poor taste, seeing as I am very much not a burglar. At **_all_**. I am a very respectable gentleman I'll have you know." 

Bofor only smiled, "Of course not. Not a real burglar at all. Never once burggled anything in his entire life. No sir, not once. A perfectly respectable cap this is."

"Of course." Bilbo nodded.

"Of course." Bofur agreed, patting his belly.

Dimitri felt his eyes narrow suspiciously at the very obvious adulting thing going on. Where they're saying one thing but mean another. The crown prince had a very suspicious feeling that Mr. Bilbo had, in fact, burggled before. A gentleman nanny burglar. 

What do gentlemen nanny's even burggle? He's had some maids that stole stuff before, mainly to sell on the black market, but trying to imagine Ole Nan stealing things was almost impossible.

Bilbo took the remaining eggs from Dimitri's petrified hands. "I think we're nearly done here Byleth. Why don't you two go help with the table?"

She nodded and handed the nanny her spatula, before hopping down off the crate she had been standing on to get to the stovetop and leading Dimitri into utter chaos. Everywhere plates, bowls, and mugs were flying. For a moment Dimitri thought it was another brawl. But then he noticed strategically placed uncles and great uncles were scattered around, humming a beat as they tossed stoneware to one another.

Dimitri's father stood in the corner with a mug in his hands and a look of astonishment on his face. Gustave stood next to him, looking more disapproving by the second. Dimitri thought he just wasn't a morning person. Maybe later he could introduce him to Byleth and they could train together! That would be fun. Except Gustave would probably make them run laps around the mountain...so maybe not.

Byleth, completely unconcerned with the tableware flying over their heads, reached into a nearby cupboard and hefted out a heavy tray of silverware. Dimitri was quick to take it from her, happy to put his strength to use. She smiled at him as she led him to the big table and started laying out the silverware. The tune her family was humming was catchy, so Dimitri found himself naturally stepping to the beat.

"Is this how you normally set the table?" Dimitri wondered if the servants at the castle ever did the same. He would have to watch more carefully.

Byleth nodded as she laid out forks and spoons. "This is usually my job, because I'm short enough not to get in the way of the plates."

A saucer flew over her head as she said this, whirling in a flash of white with flower borders as one of her uncles caught it from midair. Dimitri was suddenly reminded of the Winter Solstice and all the games the adults would play. Tests of strength and courage, one in particular being the axe throw. Dimitri bet all of Byleth's family could beat that game, hands down.

Mr. Bilbo came into room just as the cups were tossed about and blanched, " _What have I told you all-?!_ Those are my **good** plates! You be careful!"

The nan placed down the plate stacked with food to chase after the prettier looking tableware. No doubt those were considered very important with how he cried out about them being a gift from a good friend and a great envy among his village. Most of the clan laughed and continued with their song, only entrancing Dimitri more when the mugs landed each spot on the table perfectly.

Byleth took his hand, pulling him towards the same spot he'd taken last night. While the girl was fluffing the cushion, Dimitri noticed his father gesturing something to him with his hands. His eyes were wide and his face looked pale, making the boy worry that he wasn't feeling good. But before he could decipher it, a shadow suddenly casted over them and Dimitri and Byleth looked up to see Sir Jeralt.

His arms crossed, he gave his daughter a look. "Sorry kid, I'm going to need my seat back. I have things to discuss with your grandfather."

Byleth lightly pressed her lips together in worry, making Dimitri quick to assure her he was fine with sitting with his family. Jeralt nodded and agreed, a look of finality on his face as he pulled out his chair to sit. He adjusted the seat next to him for her, but Byleth took Dimitri's hand instead.

"Then I'll sit with Dimitri and his family today."

Sir Jeralt's face did not look very happy all of a sudden, but he didn't say anything either. He just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest again and going away to do his business. Byleth watched him go for a bit before turning back to take his hand, "I'm hungry."

Well, that was easy enough to fix with all the food everywhere. He tugged her hand, pulling her towards his own family, "Come on, I'll show you how to melt cheese on your eggs the quickest."

So the two of them sped past the chairs and grumbly, half asleep, members of the household, crossing the hall until they bullied their way into Dimitri's seat and the seat next to it. Not much bulling though, since no one was there. Dimitri suspects Gustave was eating standing up or something. He was so weird about siting at the table. 

Papa didn't notice him at first, staring ahead in that way he did before he's had his hot brown morning potion. But auntie Cornelia nodded to him. He waved back in place of a greeting, settling himself for breakfast. There really was a lot of yummy looking food. Byleth didn't even wait before she started eating. She was like Ingrid that way, they both like to eat as soon as there's food.

Personally, Dimitri liked to make sure the cheese was on top his eggs first, but that was just him. He couldn't imagine his life without cheese. But there Byleth is, eating cheeseless eggs. To each their own, Lady Byleth.

"Ow!! Cornelia what—!!" Dimitri heard his father hiss, Dimitri stopped his chewing to watch his father, who now looked wide awake, staring at both Dimitri and Byleth. His father's eyes were flipping between them, and then to the other end of the table where Byleths' Papa and Granda were sitting. They were staring back at Dimitris' Papa they're faces dark until Byleths Nanny said something to them, then they looked away in shame.

Nannies really are alike.

Dimitris' father was quiet for the rest of breakfast, although the rest of the table however was not. Especially when it came to clean up, Byleth rapidly tapped his arms, her face passive, but eyes positively sparkling.

"This is the best part,"Byleth whispered excitedly.

Some of her Uncles got up to clear the table and plates, Byleths father stood out of the way as plates began to be tossed between two young men, who Dimitri recognized as Lord's Fili and Kili.

They were tossing the plates between themselves and into the kitchen towards Nanny Bilbo. Who fondly called back to the remaining Uncle's at the table, who were knocking they're forks and knives together, their feet stamping in harmony.

"I most certainly hope you lot _aren't_ blunting my knives," Bilbo called.

The men and even Lady Tauriel laughed, as Dimitris' and his family's plates were carried away normally to the kitchen.

"Oh, did you hear that boys, says _not_ to blunt them," Bofur jeered in good humor.

" _Blunt the knives, **bend** the forks_," Byleths two twin uncles sang, as Byleth tossed her teacup down towards her Granda, who with practiced ease, tossed it up behind him with his saucer. 

" _ **Smash** the bottles and **burn** the corks_," they began to pick up in pace, some turning to grab instruments.

" _Chip the glasses and crack the plates~_ " they held the note as the only sound in the hall was stamping, Byleth grabbed his hand and dragged him towards a set of crates leading up towards a display case, she pulled him up as she set herself next to him. From here they had a good view of everything.

 ** _"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates—!!"_**  
...

"But why do they do this? Is it a show?" As the song finished up and the dishes disappeared back into the kitchen for cleaning, Dimitri wondered if the family was doing it for his benefit. If it was, then he'd need to thank them later.

"I don't know. They just always have. It makes things go faster I guess. Hey, do you want to go play on the mountain now?" 

Byleth's Da was talking to her Grandfather as they approached Dimitri's father. Dimitri didn't want to interrupt them, but he also didn't want to get in trouble. "Are you sure it's okay?"

She thought only for a moment before nodding her head and standing up again. "Papa knows I was going to show you the mountain today, so let's go."

Dimitri hopped down off the crates and followed her outside. It was bright and sunny out, but still chilly thanks to the altitude. The prince was happy he had a warm jacket and mittens to wear, though Byleth's were quite a bit lighter. "Won't you be cold?"

She shook her head. "Once we get climbing we'll be really warm, you'll see. It'll be like wearing a coat while you train."

Dimitri had done just that before, when Gustave wanted to train him in warm conditions. He thought it might have been one of the most uncomfortable days of his life. "Uh, should I leave mine then?"

"No, you can always take it off later. You never know when you might need it. I have a cloak and Nan Bilbo made us some snacks." She leaned down and picked up a bag she had stashed just outside the door.

"So where are we going?" 

In answer, Byleth looked up and behind the manor. The prince followed her eyes up to the peak of the mountain. "You don't mean we're going all the way up?"

"Mmmm...maybe not. But there's some animal dens I want you to see, and we opened up a new mine full of these really pretty crystals I want to show you. You can even pick one as a souvenir!"

"Oh, I don't need-" But Byleth took his hand before he could answer, dragging him towards the trail she showed him yesterday.

Before Dimitri knew what was happening, his vision was covered with dull green leaves, and wildwood that looked thinner (but just as sturdy) as the trees back home. The trail was small and wound its way in curves and dips before splitting off into a fork just a ways away. He wondered which way she'd pick, but was surprised when Byleth ignored both directions in favor of going straight through. The sudden off trail route made Dimitri a little nervous, what with prickle bushes on either side of him. It was surprising with how quickly they stepped into trouble, but Byleth led them through the prickly maze without so much as flinching.

"A-Aren't we supposed to stay on the trail?"

"This is a new trail," Byleth replied while leading him under a fallen log. "Papa says he's going to clear it soon, so it's okay."

The prince didn't question her further, despite his worry that such reasoning might be considered cheating, because they were out of the foliage only a minute later. Thankful that nothing had snagged onto him or his clothes, the boy found himself looking back at their impromptu trail with a frown.

Then he looked forward and suddenly realized there was a giant rock wall in front of them and gulped when he looked up, up, up....

"What now?"

Byleth hummed and put down her pack before taking his hand, removed his mitten, then placed it flat against her own. The gesture felt strange and Dimitri was keenly aware of how warm her hand was compared to his own, making him want to curl his fingers in hope of absorbing her heat.

Byleth, seemingly satisfied, rummaged through her pack before handing Dimitri a pair of leather gloves his size. "These will be better for climbing."

Byleth was about to start putting one glove around his hand, but he caught her in time,"Ah, I can put them on myself, you should do the same!!"

Byleth looked at him oddly, but didn't seem to question it at all, putting on his gloves Dimitri was once again thankful she wasn't a ladder climber, otherwise he'd be reading too much into that interaction, Sylvains teasing coming to the fore of his mind as he slipped the gloves on. It wasn't too tight or too loose, and despite the slight wear and burnishing of the leather, it was quite good quality.

How did they have such a perfect size for him?

"Those used to be Papa's, when he was your age,"Byleth informed him, as she put her mittens away, holding out her hands for his own, squirreling them away and hoisting the pack back on her shoulders.

"Really?" Dimitri asked in surprise, following Byleth as she made her way around the rock onto a steep wall. He couldn't imagine Sir Jeralt looking as small as Dimitri himself was, he was so... **big!!** Big like Dimitris' Papa... in fact Sir Jeralt was just a little bigger than Dimitris' Papa,"But Sir Jeralt is..."

"I know, Granda and the others are always teasing Papa for being so big, but there are drawings of Papa when he was small,"Byleth said, pulling him up onto the first ledge.

She walked over to a small opening, just big enough for the both of them, and pointed to it, sparkles in her eyes,"This is the new animal den I found!!"

"What kind of animal lives in it?"

"A tiny fox family!!"

"Foxes? I've seen foxes before."

"But have you seen these foxes?" Byleth pushed Dimitri closer to the hole. She seemed excited so he looked inside. 

Curled up in a fluffy grey and red ball were four fox cubs tumbling over each other as they played. It was perhaps the cutest sight Dimitri had ever seen. He'd only ever seen foxes as they were being chased by the hunt. These ones were precious. 

"But where is their mom?"

As if summoned, a growl started behind them. Dimitri started to look back but Byleth grabbed his hand and pulled him into a run.

"Time's up! Weren't they cute? There's a few more we can go see. I've found a nest of squirrels, and a badger den, and if we're really lucky we might even see some baby bears." 

The sticks and bushes cracked as they charged through them away from the angry mother fox. She didn't chase them for very long, apparently eager to get back to her cubs. Once she broke off and turned around, they were able to slow down and catch their breath.

"Uh. Are we going to make all of the animals angry?" Was she planning on them being chased all the way up the mountain? Dimitri wasn't sure that's what he wanted.

Byleth pursed her lips. "We don't have to meet all the animals I suppose. We've actually gotten pretty far, and there's a creek nearby. Do you want to rest there first? We can decide what to do."  
  
She was right, the creek was where she said it was. Dimitri scrubbed his hands in the chilly water and snacked on the apple and cheese Byleth handed him. A cold wind brushed over the two of them and Dimitri hugged his coat closer around him when

"The new mine is somewhere up the mountain a bit more. We could go there next and then maybe see the bears on the way back down."

Dimitri swallowed a bite of his apple. "Somewhere? Don't you know where it is?"

Byleth scratched her cheek. "No. Not exactly. I've never been there but I've seen it on the family mine plans, so I know where it should be."

She looked at the clouds in the sky. "We'll want to get there before it starts to snow."

Dimitri looked up, not at all surprised to see clouds billowing in huge tufts that grew dark the moment they collided with one another. They finished up their snack and proceeded on their adventure, the land slowly inclining upwards and making the two grab onto branches and trees the steeper it got. The boy was glad that Byleth gave him a sturdy pair of gloves, with the amount of gripping, climbing, and crawling through some thickets before finally reaching a small cave.

Looking at it, Dimitri was surprised with how small the opening was. His father would've had to bend over just to step inside - but it was the perfect size for kids like them.

"Papa says it goes really deep and there's lots of little tunnels."

"Tunnels?" 

She nodded, "Small ones. Uncle Kili had to crawl on his belly to get to another part of the cave - it took him a whole hour to get through."

"Whoa..."

Byleth then looked around, as if expecting someone to hear her as she leaned over to whisper, "Uncle Fili told me that Kili came out looking like he see'nt a ghost. They said some of the spaces were so small, that he was sure he was gonna get stuck."

Dimitri paled, probably just as badly as her uncle the day he went in.

"But don't worry," Byleth hummed. "We won't go into those since we don't really know where they go."

The boy let out a sigh of relief, glad to know he wouldn't have to crawl through tight spaces without knowing where they were going. Especially in the dark where anything could happen...

Byleth pulled out a little colored flag, "Papa and them place this inside at places they've been. Those are the safest to explore."

Dimitri noticed that the flag was colored green, as they started to walk deeper insides the cave he found other colored flags, oranges reds, and white, marking areas Byleth was strictly avoiding.

"What do the other colors mean?" He asked her, unconsciously reaching for her hand so he wouldn't get lost.

"Green means go, red means no, orange means it's unstable, but okay for now, and the white marks the veins that need to be carved out," Byleth explained, as they came to a wall where a rope was hanging down from, "This rope leads to the crystal quartz mines!!"

Dimitri racked his brain as to why that was important when he remembered that Byleth wanted to give him a gift.

"Oh we don't need to—"but it was already too late, Byleth had let go of his hand to climb up the rope, he really couldn't get out of this could he? Sighing, Dimitri climbed up after her, taking her hand once more when he got to the top, letting her lift him over the edge. Looking over the edge he noticed how pretty this mine was.

"It's pretty right?" Byleth said, pulling him along with her towards the open entrance deeper into the mine, "Wait till you see the main deposit."

They had to duck through a small opening to continue. One that Dimitri thought the adults would have problems fitting through but was certainly no problem for Byleth and him. They had gone far enough in that no light from outside reached them anymore. But Byleth had already thought of that and had a small lantern ready in her pack. She pressed a button on the side, which clicked and made a spark to light the wick inside. The resulting flame reflected in the quartz veins stretching out through the cave wall. Byleth raised the lantern to watch the stone glitter.

They entered a small cavern full of large purple crystals growing from the cracks in the walls. Dimitri couldn't help but gape. The firelight reflected off of them and through them, spreading out and dancing in odd patterns on the walls. Interspersed between around the crystal veins were other lighter stripes that shined a golden color. It was one of the most fantastic sights the Prince had ever seen in his admittedly fairly sheltered existence.

"W-Where are we? What is all this?"

"Papa says you often find gold in caves where this quartz crystal is. That's why they're excited to open it. I like the crystals more though, they're prettier."  
  
Dimitri ran his fingers over one of the thin golden stripes running through the granite wall. "My uncle says your family hoards gold like dragons."

"Hm. We do have a bunch of it in a big pile. I slide down it sometimes." Byleth approached the back of the cavern raising the lantern high, looking for another way through to deeper parts of the cave.

"Wait-What?" 

Dimitri turned to look at her in astonishment, just as Byleth slipped and fell into a crack in the rock she didn't see. She yelped of surprise as she disappeared into the crevice. On reflex, Dimitri leaped forward with a yell and grasped her wrist before she could vanish completely.

"Byleth! Hang on! I've got you!" Sweating with panic more than exertion, Dimitri had her half back out of the hole in a flash. Byleth grabbed onto his shoulders and hugged him close as soon as she was able. But before they could get away there was a loud crack and the stone underneath them both gave way. Too surprised, neither one of them was able to dodge out of the way before they both tumbled into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to explain other than a few tolkien tidbits
> 
> 'Bagend is Bilbo's house in LOTR and boy is it big and cozy  
> Bilbo was hired by Thorin and co to be a Burglar  
> He was very reluctant, but it was more or less him burglarizing the mountain so the dragon would leave and the dwarves could move back in


End file.
